


Obliviate

by rinrin_obliviate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Evil Plans, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Spoilers, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Charms, Memory Loss, Post-Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Sad, Suffering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 43,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23823892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinrin_obliviate/pseuds/rinrin_obliviate
Summary: After Delphi cast a memory charm on Scorpius, he cannot remember everything he had with his only best friend. Their first meet-up, the whole 5 years of friendship, and every moment they spent with each other vanished in just a flick of a wand; however, Albus hopes to bring back what was not yet lost.But is hope really enough for Scorpius to remember him? Can the heart truly remember what the mind forgets? Can Albus and Scorpius live without the viscous past lingering from behind?“The mind forgets, but the heart will always remember. And what is the heart's memory but love itself?”― Twan Eng Tan, The Gift of Rain
Relationships: Albus Severus Potter & Ginny Weasley, Albus Severus Potter & Harry Potter, Albus Severus Potter & Harry Potter & James Sirius Potter & Lily Luna Potter & Ginny Weasley, Albus Severus Potter & James Sirius Potter, Albus Severus Potter & Lily Luna Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Scorpius Malfoy & Albus Severus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 30
Kudos: 61





	1. "I love you"

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multi-chapter fic. I won't say anything about it, but I really hope you enjoy it.
> 
> P.S. I got the phrase "Can the heart truly remember what the mind forgets?" from a local television show, Got to Believe. So, credits to them!

_“Talk about our future like we had a clue_

_Never planned that one day I'd be losing you_

_In another life, I would be yours_

_We keep all our promises, be us against the world”_

-The One that Got Away, Katy Perry”

Everything hurts.

Scorpius would spare to be anywhere other than spend one more second in the Triwizard Tournament maze where Harry Potter once competed, back in 1995.

The pain was swallowing Scorpius from head to toe. He could hear the sinister laugh of a woman who took pleasure in agony. She pointed her wand at him like a deadly sword, one that could finish him and take his life away in less than a breath. As she aims another _Crucio_ at him, Scorpius begs for her to stop. Scorpius shuts his eyes and feels the heavy tears that streak his face. He thought that Delphi was done using him as a mere instrument for her world. He thought the _Crucios_ he had endured at the Quidditch pitch was enough; however, when Albus attempted to retreat, he was used yet again as another took. Another blackmail. For Delphi, this is just a child’s game. She gave them a choice that doesn’t feel that much of a choice. He could hear another person pleading to do anything just for him, but he didn’t care, because all he wanted was for the pain to stop, even if it meant letting go. Okay, maybe he didn’t mean it that way; but Scorpius felt vulnerable. The vulnerability he felt might be more painful than the physical pain he was enduring. It’s not the type of pain he tolerated when his classmates threw false accusations that stabbed him in the heart, nor the type of pain he went through at his mother’s deathbed. The tears were not like the time when he lashed out on Albus, nor like the time he grieved for what was lost. He realized, no, this type of pain is new to Scorpius. Pain like that is felt very rarely. He is crying because of what he might eventually lose.

He grieves for his life.

It might be too early to grieve for Scorpius, but let’s face it, Scorpius is always early for everything. He studies like he’s running out of time, makes revisions like there’s a ticking time bomb inside his chest and turns in homework the day after the teacher assigns them.

Scorpius decided to open his eyes and reverted his focus on the person aiming the Cruciatus at him—Delphi. That woman. He had doubts about her credentials in the first place. As soon as he was informed about her identity, he started finding gaps about her story. It felt suspicious. Why would Delphi risk breaking a hundred laws and being sent to prison (possibly Azkaban) just to help two teenagers perform a death wish? Where was Delphi before being Amos Diggory’s caregiver? Was the time-turner escapade Delphi’s plan all along? Did she cast a Confudus, or an Imperius on Amos,’ who only plays as Delphi’s puppet to fulfill her horrifying plan? Scorpius realized that they don’t know a damn about her despite her knowing a lot about him and Albus.

_Albus._

Because of the excruciating pain, he had forgotten about his best friend. Albus, who readily stood his guard after a few moments of fear and hesitation. As he saw his best friend turn down Delphi’s bargain and asking her to kill him, he can’t help but see a different side of Albus. The brave, Gryffindor-ish side of his best friend that Albus tried to conceal so hard in hopes that he will not be in the shadow of his father. Yet, no matter what he does, one could not escape being a Potter. Even in Slytherin, Scorpius can’t help but see the glint Albus has in his eyes whenever he’s about to do something really reckless. Reckless and brave and stupid. Like the one right before they jumped off the train and started this adventure.

As he caught a glimpse of Albus, Scorpius felt his heart shatter once again. The fearlessness and guard his best friend used to carry earlier were now replaced with uncertainty and agony. The mischievous glint that he once saw in his bright, green eyes was now replaced with tears. He never saw his best friend cry like that, not even during his nightmares. Albus didn’t cry like that when he was frustrated (besides, Albus was stubborn enough not to definitely show it), or when he had panic attacks. That…that was new to him.

Scorpius realized that it was probably their first time seeing each other like that. Scorpius, who cried his soul out as he writhed in pain. Albus, whom he never saw so vulnerable like him.

“You choose, Albus. Make your damn choice. It’s all up to you!” Delphi cackled, finding entertainment at the sight before her. “You join me and you help me finish my prophecy,” she pointed her wand at Scorpius, who instinctively flinched and cowered underneath his arms. “Or I’m going to finish off your best friend,” She paused, and cackled once again. “On second thought, I can torture Scorpius into insanity and let his mind wander into oblivion. He’d be another one of _them_ , another statistic. It will be too bad that the Malfoy clan won’t have an heir. And the worst thing, Al? I’m going to let you watch it. I’m going to make sure that you hear every scream, every wail, every shout. I will make you watch, and make sure that you live through the guilt of killing your best friend. Your only friend.”

Albus stayed silent for a long time, hugging himself with tears streaming down his face. He was breathing hard, on the verge of a panic attack. It was obvious that Albus was thinking rationally and carefully; however, time is what they don’t have. Delphi might have lost his patience, and flashed another Crucio at Scorpius. He felt another wave of pain crash upon him, one so intense that he felt his internal organs stripped out of him while he was awake, alive and breathing. Scorpius let another scream leave his body as the agonizing curse ripped him apart.

“FINE! I-I’ll choose,” Albus stuttered. Scorpius closed his eyes, knowing what Albus would choose.

Scorpius prepared for the worst. He braced himself for another wave of Crucio. This time, there won’t be breaks in between. There will be pain, pain, and pain, until he loses his sanity like Neville Longbottom’s parents. Scorpius accepted that he will do this for the greater good, for Albus. He thinks of what might people, his former classmates, think of him. Another wizard who went crazy and did something stupid. Another Malfoy sent into an institution. On the not-so-bright side, his father can make time for visits frequently. He won’t have to go back to that ghastly catastrophic timeline again, where Voldemort ruled and-

“I-I’ll join you, D-Delphi. I’ll help you,” Albus whimpered, struggling to take a breath as he locked eyes with Delphi. Scorpius knows that he’s not thinking rationally and practically. He knows what Albus might lose when he agrees with Delphi’s plan. Albus will lose his world, his mum, his dad, his siblings and everything that he stands and fights for. He will never see the bright colors of Hogwarts once again, or the Great Lake, or the cozy blankets and couches in the Slytherin common room. He’ll miss taking his not-so-fun classes as long as he was able to pass silly notes with Scorpius and make fun of it.

“Albus!” His line of thinking was interrupted as he heard Scorpius shout his name. Albus looks at Scorpius lying on the ground, trembling. Despite his best friend’s weakened state, Scorpius had a spark in his eye. He cannot point out what that _spark_ was. Worry? Sadness? Regret?

“Albus, no!” Scorpius shouted. “We’ll go back to the Voldemort timeline. I’ll go back there, and I don’t want to!” Scorpius cried even harder, because there’s nothing more painful than losing your best friend. “I can’t bear torturing muggle-borns and getting my hands smeared with their blood. I can’t sign Voldemort and Valor as I meet people who didn’t give a damn about others except themselves. I can’t endure facing the Headmistress, being surrounded by dementors and darkness and…” Scorpius hiccupped, pausing at the thought of what he was about to say. “I can’t lose you.”

Silent ensued for a long time, where Albus had nothing to say and Delphi rolling her eyes at the dramatic dialogue. Scorpius cannot bear to lose Albus. Again. There will never be a trace of his mind, nor a figment of his memory. His best friend will be gone.

In Voldemort’s world, Scorpius was the Scorpius King. He was never bullied, never harassed, never bothered. He had control of Hogwarts, something that he was never given the chance for. He had power, and he will have power.

Yet, for Scorpius to live in _his_ world, Albus would not even have to exist, and Scorpius doesn't want to live in a world without his best friend. 

Delphi broke the menacing silence, smirking at Albus and gripping his shoulder tightly. “Ooooooohh, this is getting interesting,” Delphi paused. “I understand what the stakes here are. But really,” Delphi held Albus’s face with her bare hand. “There are no other choices. Either you,” she presses the tip of her wand at Albus’s stomach. “Or him.”

Delphi continued, flipping her silver hair back so that her whole face was revealed. She grinned menacingly, as if planning another plot. Scorpius felt his heart plummet. He deemed Delphi’s actions unpredictable. Unpredictable and evil.

“But here we go. But before you help me, Albus,” She pointed her wand at Scorpius. “We’d have to make sure that your idiot best friend doesn’t blurt out the things he knows. The things he heard. The things he found out. Otherwise, this little escapade won’t work at all.”

“First of all, Scorpius is not an _idiot_. He’s my best friend,” Albus strayed a longing look to his best friend. Scorpius guessed that Albus found a newfound courage to hold on to, one that’s only temporary. However, Scorpius knows that that courage wasn’t enough. It will not be enough for him to erase his existence. He doesn’t want Albus doing this. Not at all.

“Second, you can’t kill him, nor can you harm him. You said so, _Delphi_ ,” Albus emphasized her name with spite, and if words could kill, she’d probably be sent to her deathbed right now. There are very rare times when Scorpius saw Albus furious. Times when the students bullied Scorpius, or times when he accidentally finds him secluded in the dorms. His best friend was like a concealed form of fire that was bound to explode. Albus was a secretive person, and it’s a wonder for Scorpius how a small bean like him could carry such anger and burden.

Delphi seemed to grip Albus’s shoulder harder when he saw Albus flinch. He tried to keep his mouth shut, not giving Delphi the satisfaction of pain.

“Your anger won’t do anything now, Albus. Save it.” Delphi paused, a wide grin forming in her face. “I won’t kill Scorpius. I won’t even harm him! He might be…unconscious for a moment. Might be a little dozed off when he wakes up. But he’ll be safe and sound, boi.”

Albus’s fury reached a greater scale. “What are you planning to do?” Delphi cackled as she locked eyes with Scorpius. Where Voldemort’s gaze showed no emotion and control, Delphi’s had a mix of anger, pity and resentment. Scorpius thought that at least, she was capable of feeling.

“I’m going to wipe away his memories.”

Scorpius froze in place, and so did Albus. Another long silence ensued, one that was so terrifying and alarming that none of them tried to break it. Scorpius tried to digest the consequence of her actions. The Forgetfulness charm is supposed to erase specific memories. What memories will Delphi try to erase?

“Don’t worry, Scorpius. I won’t wipe out memories that held such meaning for you. Your mother and father will always be in their dear heart. Not to mention everything you’ve learned in Hogwarts. I don’t want that getting into any waste as soon as you get into my world,” Delphi paused, thinking about the next thing she was going to say. “For now, I’m going to do it partially. First, Albus. Then everyone you have ever known. There, I can modify your memories so that you can be…oh, what do you call that? The Scorpion King? I’m sure that the title will suit you and your little name!”

No, no, no, no! Anything…anything but that! How could he live without knowing his past? Without carrying the vibrant colors of Hogwarts in his mind? His love for homework, the little fun facts he had carried from books and other learning materials, his obsession for sweets and candies, or the way he gets thrilled when he smells the aroma of the breakfast his father cooked in the living room. Him telling a story to his mother every night, where they spend hours working on. He will not remember any of those.

Yet, he knows, he knows that something will be missing. He won’t remember Albus. He won’t remember the late night homework sessions with Albus, playing Pepper Imps and staying up until 3am as they listen to each other’s nonsense rambling. He won’t be listening to Albus’s rants about being a Potter, about another argument he had with his dad, or about the silly banter he had with his siblings. He won’t see his messy black hair during class, or hear his grunts. He won’t remember waking him up every morning. His Albus will be gone.

Was Delphi this cruel enough? To let him live with no memories to carry with? Was he just going to live in a world with nothing, not even his memories? How could he live like that? How could he create his future without knowing his past? 

Albus suddenly fell to his knees and faced Delphi. “You can’t.” Albus’s body shook in agony, his voice small and pleading at the same time. “Not his memories, Delphi. That’s the only thing he has. That’s the only thing he will carry. You can’t let him forget.” Albus sniffed, trying to catch his breath with every sob. “You know, do you? You know what’s it like not to know your father? Not to remember who you are, who you really are?” Albus pressed his head into Delphi’s knees, his body wracking in sobs.

“P-please.”

For a moment, Scorpius saw a flicker of pity in Delphi’s eyes. For a moment, he saw what Delphi was behind the mask she carries, a girl who longed for a father and a mother. Scorpius wonders what it might be like if her parents, her real parents, cared enough for her. Maybe then they wouldn’t be put into this situation.

Just as they saw Delphi’s guard down, her previous expression was back, one that held such ferocity and wickedness. Delphi got closer to Albus and whispered threateningly. “Yes, I do, Albus. That’s why it’s my turn to let you all feel it. You deserved it as much as I do.”

All of a sudden, Delphi pointed her wand at Scorpius. “This is it. No backing down, no fighting. Let’s make this faster.” Scorpius felt tears of heartbreak and loss pour from his eyes. He stole one last glimpse from Albus before he forgets him, forgets everything he has ever known. Delphi said Albus will be the first he’d forget. He felt his dreams and goals, all of them with _Albus_ , gone and forgotten.

“ _I love you_ , Albus mouths, as Scorpius feels his body wrack from sobs and grieving and agony. He doesn’t care if that I love you was platonic or not. It might be a new thing between them aside from hugging. It could’ve been, it would’ve been, and now, because of fate, he’ll never be given the chance.

_I am Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. I am a Slytherin. I am from Harry Potter’s reality, one where he had a Slytherin son. I am best friends with Albus Severus Potter. He told me that he loved me. He loves me. I love him back._

_“Obliviate.”_

As Scorpius heard that word, he felt his vision thinning. All his memories were getting blurry and….hazy? He doesn’t know what’s happening, exactly. He feels like resting and lying down into the cool hard ground. He forgets the scream, the shout, the cackle. He thought he heard someone scream Brachiabindo and another Stupefy, but he’s too dozed off to think of what was happening. To remember what was happening.

Then, everything went black.


	2. Chocolates and Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus had successfully returned from 1995, but he didn't realize that there are things he cannot leave from behind. He knew he had to confront his own mistakes on his own, but Albus soon discovers that not all battles are to be fought alone. Sometimes, one just needs a little confrontation, crying, and of course, chocolates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: PANIC ATTACKS AND AN ENORMOUS OF ANGST.  
> ( “Mum, Dad,” Albus said in a hushed, desperate tone.)
> 
> This chapter is a little longer than the previous one. I opted to focus more on the thoughts of the characters, especially Albus.' There will be more dialogues for the next chapters to come, just wait for it. Also, I added meme references. 
> 
> The italicized words at the beginning of the chapters are actually songs, and if you're comfortable with it, you can check them out and listen to it lol >_< They serve as inspirations while writing the chapters.
> 
> Before you go on, I apologize if some parts were not the greatly-written for ya'll, especially the panic attack. This was my first time writing one, and I know we all have our own different experiences and thoughts with panic attacks. Please see notes at the end of the chapter!

_And I'm waking the next day_

_Without you beside me_

_And you hold on to the day_

_Tomorrow will just be a memory_

_That I would look back at all of this_

_And wonder why I stayed in here_

_Just to watch you disappear_

_So I breathe and let you go_

_How do I breathe and let you go?_

-Before it Sinks in, Moira Dela Torre

“Obliviate.”

One word. One word was all it took for Albus to lose everything. He stared at Scorpius slowly drifting off into a soft, dreamless sleep. Albus wondered if it would’ve been possible for him to take the easy way too, just like how Delphi did to Scorpius. Maybe he could’ve erased his memories of every argument they had with their father, him meeting Delphi and everything he came up with that led the two of them to this situation in the first place. 

Because at that moment, he was ready to turn back time, fling himself in front of Delphi, and even bring back his father’s enemy from the past just to keep Scorpius alive. 

He remembered planning to destroy the time-turner with Scorpius. Contacting Delphi because he thought _she had the right to know_ . Delphi playing sympathetic. The Augurey tattoo. The confrontation. Everything was jumbled after that, his mind a flurry of fear and panic. All he knew was that Scorpius was in harm, _his one and only friend tortured to insanity._ He did what he had to do, choosed what he had to choose. 

Albus wanted to run, to snap the wand of the silver-haired woman he thought he knew, to carry Scorpius and get out of Delphi’s grasp and leave the damn forsaken maze. He needed to melt into his mother’s hugs or even hear his father’s disappointing voice, to find Scorpius in his bed as he poured over books and essays with quills and parchment organized around him, to rant about schoolwork and James and Lily and everything. He needed to return to the past (future?) he wanted to change so badly. 

He hated the feeling of defenselessness. The point where he can do nothing else but slouch and stare at the ground, an overwhelming pain of shame and guilt clawing through his heart and clinging to his brain. He hated staying still, feeling the burning sensation behind his eyes as tears were threatening to pour at any moment. Most of all, Albus loathed the little spark, the little ray of hope lingering in his mind, telling him that he might still have a chance, just a small likelihood to prove himself. He hated watching that very hope spiral into oblivion, into the abyss, into nothingness, hopelessly watching until his heart shattered into pieces once again. He loathed the moment of realization that there was nothing he could feel, nothing he could say, nothing he could do to save himself. To save Scorpius.

Throughout his life, Albus had been defenseless from himself. From his name, from his dad, from his family. He couldn’t escape the reality of being a Potter just like James--masculine, popular, energetic. He wished he had enjoyed basking in glory, getting bombarded by the press every time they wanted to have a day normal wizards would have. 

Because of the name he carries, the vulnerability he had in his shoulder seemed to carry on at Hogwarts. He had been helpless from all the teasing, the hate, the bullying. He couldn’t help but notice the subtle, disappointing looks from his teachers wondering what went wrong with him, along with the pitiful stares he received from his cousins as they marched into their day-to-day lives, taking over racing brooms and acing their classes all the time. 

Lastly, he detested being defenseless against Delphi. He hated how she gave him hope, hope that the future is his to create. He hated how she wielded his mind into thinking that he could finally have the chance to prove himself and attempt to fix what his father never tried to, only to find out that he was used as a mere puppet. That she was using Scorpius as a tool for the world she wanted to recreate. 

He hated being forced to go back in time to bring back the world where anything he stood for never existed. He hated himself for trusting Delphi. He hated watching Scorpius tortured, watching his crumpled body twist and turn from the pain. He hated hearing every scream, every shout, every beg. He hated seeing Scorpius’s pleading gaze on him, wanting Albus to save himself instead of Scorpius. He hated agreeing with Delphi, knowing that there’s nothing he could do. He hated Delphi’s wand and how she pointed it at Scorpius. He hated begging, kneeling in front of her instead of spitting at her face and doing what his father would do. What every member of his family would do. What any Gryffindor would do. He hated telling Scorpius that he loved him, at the wrong place at the wrong time. He hated telling Scorpius that he loved him only when it was too late, that it would probably be the last time. He hated saying “I love you” to Scorpius, knowing that he may never say it back.

Most of all, he hated how he could not do anything about it

Besides, Albus was not a Gryffindor. He was a Slytherin. The Slytherin Potter, The Slytherin Squib, nothing else and nothing more. 

What if he took the easy route? What if he convinced the hat enough to put him in Gryffindor? He knew that it won’t still fix things as discovered from the alternate timeline, but maybe that was the only way Scorpius would be safe. Depressed, yes, but safe. Maybe if Scorpius wouldn’t have met him and dealt with this whole adventure escapade, he would’ve been in his dormitory right now, eating sweets and doing homework with some bloke instead of him. 

_“I didn’t much like my life without you in it either.”_

He had to get out of here. He has to. For his father. For the world. For Scorpius. For-

“Expelliarmus!”

First, he hears the incantation. The suddenness of what happened interrupted Delphi from the intensity of her gaze. Albus saw her wand flew over to the ground, laying pitifully. The wand that probably held a thousand curses and killed and tortured a ton of people, including Craig and Scorpius. The charm must have shocked Delphi, who opted to let down her guard for a second. The man took that second as an opportunity to cast a binding charm, tying up Delphi by an unseen force. Albus saw Delphi struggle to move, trying to free herself from the charm. She would’ve cast a simple _Emancipare_ , but her wand is nowhere to be seen. Leaving everything aside, being Voldemort’s daughter does not really mean that she is adept to wandless magic. _Not yet._

Albus ran into Scorpius, securing his grip against his body. Out of instinct, he immediately grabbed the time-turner lying on the ground, afraid to waste any second for the enemy to take hold of the cursed object once again. Scorpius looked calm and peaceful, opposite of how he looked when he woke up from his nightmares or thought too hard in his sleep. Maybe it was the effect of the Forgetfulness charm, but Scorpius didn’t look like he was tormented to death and pleading to Delphi minutes ago. Before anything else, Albus made sure that Scorpius was alive and technically breathing.

“Come no further,” Albus heard a calm, warning voice. Albus froze in place because he knew that voice so well. It was familiar to him. He slowly gaped at the boy pointing his wand at them, fear and urgency dancing in his face. He can see a hint of bravery in them, ready to accomplish whatever task he had in mind.

He was Cedric. _Cedric Diggory._

Albus couldn’t speak. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. _Who_ he was seeing. Sure, they have seen him during the previous triwizard tournaments, but Cedric facing Albus was different. He couldn’t risk anyone knowing his identity. Was he ready to interact with someone from the past? Someone he knew that should be dead? 

“But you’re...well you’re,” Albus stuttered. It seemed really stupid to ask his name at the moment, but Albus needed affirmation, to really believe that what he was seeing was real. 

“Cedric Diggory.” The boy gripped his wand tighter afraid to lose any second of his enemy taking advantage of him. “Enough of this. I heard screaming and I knew I had to come. Name yourselves, beast. I can fight you.” Albus admired the bravery laced in Cedric despite the uncertainty in his voice. If he was in a different situation, he would’ve found Cedric Diggory actions really charming and alarming. Charming, because he had the courage to save both of them from Voldemort’s daughter. Alarming, because he wouldn’t know what to do if he had seen him, let alone recognize him as the guy who was the reason for his downfall during the first tournament. 

“You saved us,” Albus said in a hushed whisper, shock and surprise entwined in his voice. Cedric seemed to hear him, for he saw a moment of hesitation in his eyes. He lowered his wand, but his grip didn’t seem to relax. 

“A-Are you also a task? An obstacle?” Cedric questioned. When Albus kept his mouth shut, Cedric continued. “Speak! Do I have to defeat you too? Just like her?” Cedric flicked his wand at Delphi, who was screaming and thrashing around like a child throwing a tantrum.

Albus waited for a moment, pondering if he was going to answer or not. If he didn’t, they’d probably suffer the same fate as Delphi and get stuck at time. If he did, well, he had to be careful. Careful in such a way that his actions or words should not influence the past. 

“Umm...no,” Albus said, vaguely answering Cedric’s question. “J-just let us be and finish the maze.” Albus felt his voice crack, because he knew that he was literally suggesting death. He was here because his cause was to save Cedric, to fix what his father failed to do, yet here he was. Letting Cedric die for the greater good. If only there was another way, another path, _another choice_ for him to make. 

“Well then,” Albus saw Cedric’s knowing look. He was able to cast one last glance at Delphi, who continued throwing words that must have sounded gibberish to Cedric. He was able to cast a final Stupefy at Delphi, who was knocked out immediately. Albus wanted to kneel, to thank Cedric for being the key to stopping Voldemort’s reign, but Albus knew that he had to be reasonable this time.

“I hope your friend is okay. He seemed alive and breathing, so that’s the start.” Cedric stared at the ground briefly, finding the situation awkward and unfortunate at the same time. “Well, I’m going to finish the maze now. Good luck at whatever your cause is,” Cedric gave them a pitiful smile, one that was laced with comfort and hope. Albus felt his heart break for the boy. Was Cedric really the type of man who would turn back from his cause because of shame and embarrassment? Was he really the spare that must be spared for the return of Voldemort? As Albus stared at Cedric’s eyes, he didn’t see a man who was the key to bring back the dark world. He didn’t see a death eater, nor a man who would exact revenge on those who persecuted him. No, he saw a boy. He saw _Cedric Diggory,_ a seventeen year old boy who wanted to prove himself like how Albus did.

Before he loses sight of the seventeen year old boy, Albus calls out his name, not really thinking ahead. Maybe he was not thinking rationally. Maybe he was not planning things ahead of time. Maybe he was doing something irrational, reckless and different just like his father used to; but he did not want to get out of this adventure, this _escapade_ , without knowing that at least something good was coming out of it. 

“Cedric, your father really loves you. You know that right?” Albus heard himself ask, because it’s true. He saw the look at Amos Diggory’s face, one that held such pain and a little bit of hope. Maybe the man was under an Imperius or Confundus charm, but he knew that somehow, a little bit of Amos was speaking there. Somehow, he knew that the pain will always be there despite how many years have passed.

Cedric stared at them, confusion evident in his features. Albus had not realized he blurted that out, but he felt like not regretting it. Out of all his decisions and actions throughout this mini adventure in time, he felt like this was the only thing he was going to be proud of. 

“Umm..right. Thanks,” Cedric blurted out awkwardly. Long silence ensued between them, with Albus staring at Cedric and positioned awkwardly beneath Scorpius’s body. “I gotta go now, so…” Cedric trailed off before rushing away, leaving the two battered, damaged boys behind. Albus must have realized how awkward and unconvincing Cedric was during Harry’s fourth year. Sure, he was charming and handsome at some point, but this was the guy who told Harry to bathe in the Prefect’s bathroom and bring the egg with him. He was surprised no rumors emerged of Cedric and Harry.

 _Yet_ , Albus thought, _that was what he deserved. To know that he is loved._

Albus held the time-turner in hand, cradling Scorpius along with him. He had to go back to his present, he had too. He had to make things right again. He had to fix the ripples he had made. He needed to save Scorpius. He needed to bring Delphi to his father, or Hermione, anyone who could help him. 

Cradling Scorpius in his lap and Delphi beside him, Albus spins the time-turner.

He felt the crescendo of the ticking as they travel through time, past 1994 and to his present. He wondered what would happen after all of this. His parents would probably look at him in disappointment. He and Scorpius would be grounded for life. Yet, Albus couldn't bring himself to care, because all he wanted was to get out of that place, save Scorpius and go back home. He felt the thunderous beating of his heart as the ticking of time grew louder and louder, the intensity and fear of the situation growing stronger by the second.

A strong gust of wind.

A blinding flash.

\-----

Albus could feel the gust of wind stinging his reddened cheeks and his maddened hair flying around his head. Instead of feeling the striking heat of the sun and the hot breeze sweeping around, he felt the cool air surrounding him, engulfing him at a hundred miles per second. He felt a heavy weight in his lap, but he wasn’t in his right mind to ponder what he should do or how he should act. Apart from that, everything was a flurry of voices and senses. All he knew was one thing: 

He was back. Back in 2020.

Slowly, carefully, Albus continued to absorb his surroundings. He was in the Quidditch pitch, the same place where Delphi bought them minutes ago. _This was where the third and final task of the triwizard tournament happened_ , Albus thought. He wondered how he had been in that exact same spot minutes ago. To him, those minutes seemed like hours, and a lot has happened since. His gaze went up, and found out that the sky was slowly brewing into a storm. The rain was about to pour any second, but he doesn’t care. He saw Scorpius lying in the same position, his eyes screwed shut in a dreamless sleep. Delphi was still on his side, unmoving and unconscious. Albus didn’t know how and when she would wake up, and he was not ready for that. He was afraid to lose even a second of his time and started looking around in panic, hoping for someone to come and rescue them. 

He heard footsteps approaching and tried to locate where the noise was coming from. Albus heard a series of shouts and commands, their voices laced with worry and panic. When he saw where the voices were coming from, Albus couldn’t catch his breath. From afar, he saw the fear and distress in his mum and dad’s eyes, as well as the fierce and daring expressions of Hermione, Ron and Draco. He couldn’t help to think that they were okay, they were safe, and someone would come and rescue them. Scorpius would be healed, Delphi would be sent to where she deserved, and everything would be okay.

As the group grew closer, he felt a strong tug in his arm. Albus flinched instinctively, thinking of how Delphi used the same tactic on him to threaten their lives with a single flick of her wand. Albus looked up and found the worried glance of his father. Albus could see his own, beaten up reflection staring on his own. At that point in time, he did not see Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, nor did he see the fearless Chosen One, who was bombarded by the press and asked for autographs. Albus saw nothing but a father, his father, and right now, he wanted to thank him.

“I...I..,” Albus was supposed to assure Harry that he was okay and that he loved him, even if it was the sappiest thing to say at the moment. He wanted to hug Ginny after everything that happened. After hearing Delphi’s snarls, Scorpius’s screams and Cedric’s heartbreaking moment, all Albus wanted to do was to curl up in his bed and cry. That is, until he saw another figure rush past him. 

_Scorpius._

He looked back as swiftly as he could, and saw Draco kneeling towards Scorpius unconscious body. He grabbed Scorpius by the shoulders, trying to wake the boy. Concern and anxiousness was evident in his features, his shoulders tense and ready to take action at any moment. Draco did not seem the type to freeze in place and cry; however, his calm demeanour urged him to take action and stay alert. Right now, his priority was not to cry and mope around. He stared at Delphi’s body and tensed. Draco wanted to fling every curse, every jinx at the cursed woman if he could. He knew that no amount of curse would replace whatever torment his son endured in her hands. He wanted to strangle her, but Draco’s priority was to keep Scorpius safe, and Albus could see that. 

Albus immediately faced his parents out of urgency, planning to tell them about what happened and warning them about Scorpius’s condition. They needed to bring Scorpius to St. Mungo’s, take hold of Delphi and inform everyone that Voldemort’s daughter is alive and planning to take over the Wizarding World like his father. He wanted to tell what he’d heard, what he saw, everything that was holding him back.

“Mum, Dad, it’s Scorpius,” Albus warned, his voice covered with worry and urgency. The courage and fearlessness was gone and replaced with sadness and anxiety. “Delphi cursed him, he’s alive. We have to take him to the hospital and...and,” Albus was cut short as he felt someone force him to turn around. The man gripped both of his shoulders, his strong hands taking hold of Albus. He let out a gasp to find out that it was Draco, who was suddenly inches closer to him than he was before. 

For a moment, he saw Draco’s calm demeanour fade away. He only saw the eyes of a father who would do anything for his son, just like what he saw at Harry’s. For a moment, Albus was petrified in place, afraid of the sudden movement and the tightness of his grip.

”What happened? What happened to my son?” Draco asked, the strong facade he seemed to wear gone and went away. Albus couldn’t help but think that it was his fault. If only he had not brought Scopius along with him, if only Scorpius never dealt with him in the first place. Scorpius said it himself, he was the most terrible friend. He planned to prove himself to Scorpius as they set out to make things right, only to prove to him once again that he was an awful best friend anyone could ever have.

“He...he…,” Albus said in between breaths, having a hard time thinking of a simple answer. _It was Delphi. We were supposed to destroy the time-turner for good, but Delphi was there. She showed the Augurey. She fired a Killing Curse at Craig. She brought us back in time only to torture Scorpius and let me choose. She Obliviated him. Erased his memories. Erased everything we had. I tried to stop her, but Cedric did. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry._

When Albus couldn't bear to think of a clear straightforward answer, Draco tightened his grip on Albus's shoulder. His gaze never avoided his eyes. There wasn’t hate or mocking in his eyes like how Albus expected. He expected Draco to shout at him, to scream at him, to blame him after what had happened. He deserved the worst treatment. His eyes reflected the opposite of how Albus expected Draco to be. Scorpius’s father demanded answers yet Albus felt like it was his fault for not giving him one. After disappearing and reappearing through time, and coming back with an unconscious Scorpius, Albus felt like that was at least what Draco deserved. 

”What have you _done_ to my son?” Draco begged, his gaze steady and alarming. Albus flinched, because Draco’s words stung to the bone. He felt bile form in his throat as hot tears started to form from his eyes. Suddenly, he was brought back to his room, unable to control himself, in fear of showing the worst of Albus Severus Potter. He was back before he started 5th year, where there was only him and Harry. He was back to feeling miserable, the time where his own worth was questioned by those who he didn’t expect to. He could hear Harry’s screams echo around the room. He could hear the blood travelling through his veins and ringing in his ears, his heart pounding in such a way he never felt before. Albus could hear the sound of crashing, the sound of disappointment, and finally, the heavy sound of silence. He could hear the echo of his words, and Harry’s words too. _Well, there are times I wish you weren't my son._

This time, though, Albus doesn’t feel madness. He doesn’t feel hate wallowing him up. He doesn’t feel the need to prove to his father that he can be the Potter that he wants, and that he can wield his own name, his own identity, his strong suit. He does not feel the need to be the hero just like him. Instead, he feels regret. He feels regret swallow him, forcing him to look at the consequences of what he had done. Because of this, everything was a mess. He scarred his father forever. He scarred the past. He scarred his present. He had scarred Draco. He had scarred Scorpius. He had scarred himself, and he hated himself for it. What was he expecting? To get smothered by hugs and kisses and have the assurance that everything would be okay? 

He should have known that this would happen. He knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but there he was, trying to reason out for himself. Again. Maybe it is time to stop. Maybe he should stop trying to prove himself for anyone. His previous attempts showed how those ended up in a disaster. Maybe he was just Albus Severus Potter.

“That’s enough,” Ginny said in a stern voice, breaking the tension along the pitch. It was enough for Albus to break down into his train of thoughts. Her mum was strict when she had to be, particularly in handling situations like those. “The first thing Scorpius needs is medical attention, not another confrontation,” Ginny added, her attention directed towards Draco Malfoy. It was obvious that she had enough of bickering and fighting. She was bound to explode as soon as she saw another Potter-Malfoy quarrel in her presence. Ginny needed answers. She needed attention, so that’s what she’ll get.

Draco seemed to resonate with Ginny’s command and let go of Albus. The boy took a deep breath and pondered once again. He saw Aunt Hermione casting charms on Delphi, making sure that she wouldn't have the chance to make an escape once again. Ron was there, whispering what they probably ought to do with Voldemort’s daughter. Draco seemed to get back on his feet and kneeled once again in front of Scorpius, checking for a sign that his son was alive. 

Everyone’s attention was divided in a different manner. Ron and Hermione never averted their gaze on Delphi, afraid that she might make her move. The two still had a hard time absorbing the possibility of Voldemort having a daughter, yet they were still able to think rationally and decisively. Harry and Ginny’s attention was on Albus, their instinct telling them to just ask Albus what had happened. His eyes were puffy and red from crying, their son looking distraught and far too damaged. At that moment, Harry saw himself in Albus. He saw the look of hopelessness in himself whenever someone died at his hands, whenever something happened that he could have prevented. He asked himself how he could let Albus experience what he had. Ginny wanted to hug Albus and cry despite her fierce facade. She wanted to cry because he was okay, he was alive and he was breathing. She wanted to hug him while he was standing in front of her and make him a mug of cocoa just like she used to. Ginny wanted to comfort him from what he had seen, from Delphi, from the world; however, as a mother, she knew what she could and what she could not do. 

Albus and Draco’s attention was on Scorpius, who was still unconscious as ever. Albus could see the rise and fall of his chest and took small comfort from that. _He’s alive_ , Albus thought. _He’s alive, and that’s all that matters_. Draco’s head was scrunched up in focus and determination, thinking of what he should do next. 

Finally, after a long and terrible silence, Draco got everyone’s attention in one snap. “I’m bringing Scorpius to St. Mungo’s,” he declared. “He’s alive and breathing, but I had to know if he suffered serious effects from Delphi’s spells and curses.” He averted his gaze at Ginny, who was never afraid to look at him in the eye. “You’ll know where to go. I need to know what happened.”

Someone among them must have conjured a Patronus, for Madame Pomfrey came rushing afterwards with a stretcher. The two rushed silently to the Hospital Wing, and hopefully, away from any more danger.

“Mum, Dad,” Albus said in a hushed, desperate tone. “We need to go to St. Mungo’s right now. Draco has to know what happened. We have to know if Scorpius is okay,” he added, shaking his parents’ arms. Albus could feel the little droplets littering his arms, his heads, his clothes. He felt surreal about the whole situation--standing in an empty, cold pitch with his mum and dad, along with the Minister of Magic and her husband. Albus remembered how he used to love the cold weather--the calming, peaceful whiff before the storm. He loved how the clouds slowly turned to gray, waiting to unleash their sorrows, burdens and anguish. He used to find comfort in it, hiding beneath the covers of his own secluded space in the Slytherin dorms.

But right now, he wanted to run away. 

He could feel his parents’ gaze on him--the undistinguishable look from his father, and the comforting gaze of his mother. If he was in a different situation, he would have returned to look. He wouldn’t have to plead in front of him. He never does, but right now he felt as if he had no choice. This wasn’t about him anymore--this was about Scorpius. This was about his best friend.

Albus continued on a long rant about Scorpius and Draco, a series of suggestions forming in his head. He could feel his hands tremble and shake, but he doesn’t mind it. _They need to tell Professor McGonagall. Have everyone alerted of the Augurey. Report to others that Voldemort’s daughter killed Craig. She’s planning to bring Voldemort back. She tortured Scorpius, blackmailed us, then proceeded to erase everything he had._

“Albus. Albus,” Harry’s voice thundered over him, bringing down his thought process along with him. There was authority in him, but to Albus’s surprise, there wasn’t a hint of disappointment. Instead, he saw anxiousness, concern and worry. The same thing reflected on his mum’s eyes.

At that moment, Albus could do nothing but look at the ground, the damp wet grass covering his shoes with mud and soil. He stifled a whimper, silently hoping that the ground would take pity on him and swallow Albus in shame. He wanted them to lash out on him, just like what Draco did to Albus. Albus needed them to look at him with a mixture of disappointment and regret. He wanted his dad to tell him that he’s not Harry Potter, and that this whole stunt had done nothing but prove that he is another one of their regrets. 

This was worse. 

Yet there he was, trying to conceal the tears that were threatening to form in his eyes. It felt new that someone would _actually_ show care for him beside Scorpius, especially at the time where he least deserved it. After serving as a threat to his father’s existence and being the key for Delphi’s unwanted scheme, he didn’t deserve any pity. He didn’t deserve care and love after what he did

Albus tried to look around, anywhere except Harry or his mum. The guilt of what he did was suddenly overflowing him, trying to crush the hope that was left of him. His efforts of concealing his sobs were futile, his face looking like a blubbering mess of snot and tears. His hands that were trembling a while ago seemed to grow worse, reaching down into his arms and legs. He couldn’t steady himself, feeling like losing control over his body. He could feel his heart thundering over his chest and his stomach twisting into knots and the scary part was that he didn't know why. _Scorpius is in the hospital. Delphi is here. She is guarded by Aunt Hermione. Your parents are here._ Despite those facts, Albus couldn’t bring himself to believe his own thoughts. He didn’t know why he couldn’t just _calm down_ , why he couldn’t just keep himself together for a second. He was feeling everything and nothing at the same time--the unearthly ringing in his ears, the sudden blurriness that was overcoming his world, and his legs losing control over his whole body. 

Maybe it was the uncontrollable sobbing, but his breathing felt fast and erratic. Every breath he drew felt like a battle, and every second felt like he was losing to himself. Albus could feel nothing but tightness around him, like there were invisible corners trying to surround him from the inside. He could feel his body give in, and all he wanted was for everything to end, to finish on its own. He needed the world to stop for him because he suddenly couldn’t keep up with it. He tried Scorpius’s breathing tactics he used to teach him. _4 seconds in, 4 seconds out._ He remembered Scorpius blurting it out as a “fun fact,” unknowingly saving Albus from countless sleepless nights and teasing. _This is not going to work_ , Albus thought. _Scorpius is not here. He’s the only one who could deal with this. With me._

“Al? Al,” Albus could hear a faint voice bringing him back to reality, but it wasn’t enough to root him back to himself. He could make out brown eyes staring at him and the coldness that dampen his cheeks. “Listen to me. You’ll be okay. You’re here at the Quidditch pitch. With us. Scorpius and Draco are the hospital,” the steady voice paused for a while, then continued. “Delphi’s done. For good. You’re safe with us now. I need you to breathe for me, okay?” He heard the cracking in the woman’s voice; nevertheless, her voice held steadiness and comfort at the same time.

The voice was slowly repeating the same mantra to him. It felt like a long, agonizing time, but slowly, Albus could feel the thumping of his heart turn to normal. He tried wriggling with his hands one moment at a time, finally having control over them. Steadying himself was hard enough when he didn’t realize that he was sitting on the wet grass, his legs curled up to himself. His vision was slowly returning, and he could now make out his mother’s worried stare and the panic in his father’s eyes. Even though their wands were directly aimed at Delphi, Albus could feel the worried glances of Ron and Hermione too. If he was in his normal state, Albus would have found the situation awkward and humiliating. He would’ve reasoned out some lame excuse and try to flee the scene as much as possible, not even batting an eye at his parents. Yes, that was partly how he felt, but the exhaustion creeping him in was heavy as though his very own life had been sucked out of him. He felt his eyes give up on him, probably too tired for crying and everything. He wanted to lie in bed and let sleep take over him; yet, something tells him not to do that yet.

“Albus?” He heard his mom’s small, even voice resonating through him. “We’re here, alright?” Albus felt Ginny’s soft hands touch his, lightly shuddering at the sudden contact. He didn’t know how and why they were so warm despite what seemed like freezing weather to him. The sensation reminded him of the hot cocoa his mother used to make whenever he woke up in the middle of the night. It was one of the least calming things he looked forward to at home. He didn’t feel the need to break contact as Ginny slowly enveloped him into an affectionate hug. 

There they were, in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. Ginny Weasley-Potter sitting on the grass, hugging her son, with Harry Potter who seemed lost in his own world. It is a naturally uncommon scene to view, especially for a Potter family. The press would only cover the rumors, reports of Ginny Potter performing exceptionally well at a Quidditch game. Harry Potter would be featured as the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. 

Sometimes, it would be their kids. James and Lily would be inserted in various interviews, with Albus Potter’s name at the bottom of the news article. “ _Slytherin this_ , _slytherin that_ ,” is what they would say.

Albus never really cared. As he put his whole weight against her mom, he felt the urge to cry again, but the numbness he felt on the inside was overwhelming him. He didn’t care if another Hogwarts student would turn up in the same spot and saw half of the Potter family soaked in the rain, along with the Minister of Magic. He didn't give a damn if another reporter found time to write another article with the headline: _What are the Potters up to this time?_ He didn’t know what he wanted. All he knew was that he was drained and everything inside of him screamed sleep.

“Do you want to go home?” Ginny whispered into him, the ever-comforting voice embracing his thoughts. He desperately wanted to say yes and give in to the thought of having to stay in bed; yet, he knew that Scorpius is not okay. Not yet. Maybe not ever. He knew that if he ventured into sleep, he would hear the tortured screams of Scorpius, the frightening glimpse of Delphi's silver hair, and Cedric dying in the maze, over and over again. The nightmare would be his new reality and he will wake up, only to sleep and suffer the same fate.

Besides, he didn't need sleep. He needed answers. He needed to know what happened to Scorpius.

"I just want to go to Scorpius," Albus murmured, tightening his grip on Ginny's shirt. "I need to see him," he added in a strained murmur.

"Then that's where we'll go, okay?" Ginny assured. "Ron and Hermione are going to formally take hold of Delphi, see what they can do to her." Albus wanted to ask why not directly give her a death penalty or that woman to Azkaban, but he didn't have enough courage to think about her, let alone speak. All he could do was muster a nod, and somehow, that was enough for Ginny and Harry.

Harry kneeled beside Albus and held his son's hand for the first time. To his surprise, Albus didn't flinch nor break contact. _Well, that was progress,_ Harry thought, meeting his wife's eye for the first time. He felt Albus gave a light tug, to which he responded too. Harry felt his heart swell in relief at the process. He gave a mild nod, and for a moment, he saw a smile form on Ginny's lips.

"St. Mungo’s it is, then." Ginny released a breath, and the three finally Apparated into St. Mungo’s, leaving behind a cold, stormy pitch behind them.

\-----

Harry didn't much like the rain.

He had been to so many adventures, quests and escapades in his life, yet the rain was one small thing he was never fond of. Sure, it can be really comfortable and cozy-like on a Friday night while he snuggled on thick layers of blanket with a hot cocoa in hand. It could be really relaxing to smell the cool, distinct whiff of the air right before it was about to rain. It reminded him of Hogwarts, youth and family; however, it isn't that comfortable anymore when you're the one standing beneath the sky. His clothes clinged around his body, making it hard for him to move around. It also weighed him a lot, so it feels like Harry is carrying so much more than his weight.

But when he thought deeper of it, that's not mainly the reason why. 

He remembered third year, when a supposedly fun Quidditch game turned into a nightmare because of unexpected visitors--mainly Dementors. When the audience wanted a really vigorous game, the Dementors wanted souls to feed from. Harry thought they could finally win the match and get to be the first to catch the Snitch on that fateful day. He remembered being against Hufflepuff, along with Cedric Diggory who was the Seeker at that time. He remembered flying, the thunder ringing on his ears, the wind flying past him and little, overpowering drops of rain making his grip on his broom grow tighter. He remembered seeing black-figured phantoms and hearing a woman's deathly scream that could almost match a banshee's. He remembered falling into unknown darkness and into the abyss. He felt immense and profound sadness clawing at his heart as it sank into oblivion. 

Remus offered chocolates as many as he wanted. He told him it was one of the helpful solutions after confronting dementors. Harry remembered feeling warm on the inside, like all his memories of his parents were momentarily erased and forgotten. He had food, he had Ron and Hermione, and he had Remus. Somehow, everything was okay at that time. Sure, sweets did not exactly pave a way to solve his problems in saving the Wizarding World and all of humanity, but it gave him temporary solace at least.

He wasn't sure if he could give the same thing to Albus.

Whenever he made an attempt to talk to his youngest son, Albus always tried to shut him out. His son always built barriers between him and Harry. At times when he tried to break through them, he couldn’t help but think that he was only making everything worse. Their strained relationship did not seem to improve every time their kids went home during the breaks. There were times when he wondered why he couldn't be easy to maneuver like James and Lily, who wore fame like a crown to flaunt. Albus hid from everything--from carrying the Potter name to the fame brought by it. When James and Lily looked forward to playing a mini Quidditch game in their backyard, Albus preferred to stay behind the doors, enjoying the temporary serenity he had in his room.

The walls Albus built between them made Harry recount the times when his youngest son was not afraid to talk to him, let alone reveal his emotions. The last time he probably saw his son vulnerable was when he was eleven, entering as a first year in Hogwarts. He caught a glimpse of the uncertainty and fear lingering in Albus’s eyes as he worried about being sorted in Slytherin. Harry thought that revealing the man behind his son’s namesake was a pretty big thing to grasp for a scared, eleven-year old about to get sorted at Hogwarts; yet, he thought that it was the right thing to say at the time. 

That was supposedly the last, until what happened at the Quidditch pitch. The Albus whom he saw back then was different from what he expected. There was no fighting, no pushing away, no screaming, no shouting. Harry could see the desperate look in Albus’s eyes as he looked around them in panic. His eyes were red and puffy, but that didn’t stop his son from pleading amongst them, trying desperately to explain the situation and get immediate help as possible. He watched the glint of hope that Albus was holding on to, only to vanish slowly and be replaced with pain and discouragement. 

He watched his son grow suddenly pale, could suddenly see his hands trembling in fear. Naturally, Harry’s first instinct was to grab his wand. _Did Albus spot something that they didn’t? Were they still in any danger? Is Delphi awake?_ Those questions repeatedly lingered in his mind until he saw Albus leg’s give in on him. He noticed Ginny approached Albus as he saw his son struggle to breath, as if he was fighting to get hold of air around him. He was wheezing, and Harry didn’t know what to do at the time. The thing was, Ginny maintained a careful distance from Albus as she got near him--near enough for Albus to hear her, yet far enough for her not to be able to touch Albus.

He saw Albus’s labored breathing slow down. When he looked like he was back to reality, he saw him give a light murmur. He attempted taking hold of Albus’s hand, still worried that his hands might be too cold or clammy for him. Everything was a blur afterwards. Ginny performed a Side-Along Apparition to St. Mungos, leading them to a route where there were less people to ask autographs and take pictures of them. 

The two let their son sit at one of the hallways of the hospital. Ginny gave a complicated wave with her wand and suddenly, he felt his soaked, wet clothes turn dry and comfortable again. Ginny asked Albus if he wanted to go to the loo, and when Albus said no, Ginny glanced intently at Harry, who had no choice but to follow him. He had the feeling that Ginny wanted to talk to him alone.

Harry suddenly had the nerve to confront Draco and ask him how he dared to frighten Albus like that. Ginny must have seen the fire enveloping his husband’s eyes, for she told Harry to accompany Albus. Alone.

“You’ll know I’m going to make it worse, Gin,” Harry murmured, not wanting his son to hear. Albus looked like he was in deep thinking, and Harry did not want to interrupt his train of thoughts. 

Ginny smiled at him and gave him a pat in the back. “And you’re going to make it worse for Draco if you stormed at him while he is worried sick about his son.”

Harry frowned at the idea. “So you’re telling me that I’m the worst at doing both?”

“No, but seriously. I think I’m the only one one who could handle Draco. You two never had a proper, civil conversation...and that says something,” Ginny chuckled. Harry gave her a reluctant stare, which urged her to continue

“It really scared me, Gin. You know, what happened earlier,” Harry bowed his head down. He couldn’t bring himself to talk about what happened. Not with Albus in sight.

“He used to have those, you know. Usually the day before another term started. I’ve lost count, but a mug of cocoa helps,” Ginny added, her gaze suddenly serious and solemn. “Talk to him, Harry. You really should,”

“I-I can’t, Gin. I can’t do what you just did,” Harry said in return, worry laced in his voice.

“Harry, remember when we were young, and you used to wake up from nightmares screaming and thrashing around? The feeling when you thought you were in harm, thought that you were going to die, and suddenly all you want to do is curl up in a ball and cry?” Ginny asked, staring at him right in the eye. “It’s like that, Harry. There’s really no proper handbook for being the perfect parent. You just... _do it_.”

So that was where Harry found himself, walking down another hallway with 2 packets of chocolates. He wasn’t able to find any cocoa at St. Mungo's local store, and it was the only thing that came up in his mind. 

He saw Albus sitting in one of the chairs, wringing his fingers that were a little bit wrinkled after the rain. As Harry saw the regret and sadness forming in his son’s eyes, he knew he shouldn’t be rash--so he did the best thing he could. He sat beside him. 

At first, long silence ensued between them. Harry could sense the awkwardness and tension in the air, and he knew he couldn’t start the way he started before. He couldn’t bear to endure another fight. All he wanted was to understand Albus, but he really didn’t know how to. He couldn’t just ask what happened or why he did what he did. 

After a lot of considering and re-considering in Harry’s mind, he resorted to what he believed could solve everything--food. 

“I bought chocolate bars,” Harry blurted out, his voice faltering a bit. “They didn’t offer hot cocoa, so I bought these two. One for you, one for me. I didn’t get one for your mom, but don’t tell her that,” he stared at Albus, suddenly feeling very conscious of his ranting. “You want some? I bought the whole pack.”

To his surprise, Albus gave a light smile, staring at the chocolate Harry was offering him. “Okay,” Albus said in a faint whisper, taking the chocolates with him. Harry was somehow relieved that Albus took the offer, because he honestly wouldn’t know what to if Albus refused to. He’d probably ask the ground to wallow him as a whole. 

“Are you going to buy some for James and Lily too?” Albus asked, staring up at his father. The sadness in Albus’s eyes wasn’t gone for good, and all he wanted was to get rid of it. _At least_ , Harry thought, _he could see a faint sign of happiness in Albus again_. It wasn’t big, but it was a start for Harry. He saw the glint in Albus’s eyes again, and it was like his youngest son was a child again, helping alongside cooking and inventing recipes. He remembered his son staring proudly at him after he successfully cracked his eggs into the pan. Harry giggled loudly, only to realize that he still had two kids sleeping upstairs. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to bring back that glint he had when he was a child, but maybe he could help Albus be happy again this way.

“Let me see,” Harry pondered, a hint of playful mockery in his voice. “The two would probably fight over their packs of chocolates for an hour, allotting 30 minutes for a mini wrestling at the Potter household. Then I’d be left to clean the chocolate smears on the couch.” Harry paused, thinking about the odds before finally deciding. “Nah, I’d prefer to eat my chocolates. _In peace_. For a long time.” 

Albus gave a faint chuckle, and at that moment, Harry felt like breathing a sigh of relief. He would give anything to see Albus happy again, even if it meant buying a ton of chocolates for him. It wouldn’t matter how many times Ginny would remind him of what he did for his whole life. He wanted nothing but to pause time just to stay and relive that moment over and over again. 

Unfortunately, moments like those couldn’t last forever. This was a fact that Harry would soon realize. He thought that he and Albus would continue on eating, forgetting everything that happened a while ago. He felt Albus drew a breath, trying to muster up the courage to say something. A long silence lingered. To Harry’s surprise, Albus said something he didn’t expect. Not at that time.

“I want you to know what happened,” Albus blurted out, staring intently at Harry. His son seemed unsure of what to say, even unsure of what he was saying. Harry felt the same way about himself. 

Harry stared at Albus. He didn’t know if his son was ready to, and the worst thing he could do is for Albus to break down or walk away. Even Harry was dying to know what happened, but he had to consider Albus’s emotions. Who knows if what happened back in time might trigger Albus, and his son had enough crying for the day.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked. “You don’t have to, you know. At least, not today,” Harry said, trying to make his tone comforting as much as possible.

“I have to,” Albus added, his voice strained and weary. “I need to. After everything _I did_ ,” Albus swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue. “You deserve to know what happened. Mum does. Draco does.”

“It’s not your fault, Albus,” Harry clutched Albus’s hand, giving him the only strength he could offer as a father. “Listen, we found out about the prophecy. Who she is. If it wasn’t for you, Al, we wouldn’t have known that he--that he had a daughter.”

Albus closed his eyes and drew another breath. Harry’s grip on Albus’s hand grew tighter, knowing that it was the only support he could give as a father. If he could, he would take away all the pain he had endured from her. He would have turned back time so he wouldn’t see his son battle himself everyday. It seemed ironic, coming from him, but it was one of Harry’s ‘ _what if’s’_ in his mind. He wanted to do so much, but there was only so little Harry Potter could do. And even that, he was willing to give it to Albus.

With all his might, Albus narrated what happened from the beginning. He briefed Delphi's visit at their house along with Amos Diggory, whom she must have Confounded. Albus narrated the jump from Hogwarts Express, the Trolley Witch, the journey to St. Oswald’s breaking into the Ministry, everything up to other alternate timelines. He mildly thought about the trolley witch, who, from all years as a Hogwarts student, never appeared to be a very spiky and harmful woman. Harry wondered about the alternate timeline: who he was, how Albus was sorted in Gryffindor and how things weren’t even better between them. He also imagined what must have been if Ron didn’t have Hermione. 

Albus’s story took a dark turn, having realized that humiliating Cedric would have turned him into a death eater. He told all about the Voldemort timeline through Scorpius’s point of view, which must have hurt for Albus. He figured out the reason why Scorpius must have been so happy at the lake, screaming Harry Potter’s name like he was about to ask for another autograph. Harry felt his heart break for Scorpius, and instantly regretted what he thought about him.

Albus was silent for a while. At first Harry thought he was trying to remember the next thing that happened; however, when he glanced at him, he saw tears forming in his eyes. His lips were trembling, and he looked up at Harry once again. “It’s okay,” Harry muttered, because it was all he could for Albus. He cannot promise Albus that he is going to be okay forever, but for now, that was all he could assure him. 

Albus told him about Delphi’s revelation. The Augurey, which was supposedly her symbol of power in the dark world. She led them to the Quidditch pitch, then proceeded to torture Scorpius just to make Albus choose. Tears were freely forming into Albus’s eyes at that point. The choices were hard--his best friend, or the whole wizarding world. Albus told him that he wanted to back out the minute they went back in time, in which Delphi had no choice but to torture Scorpius. Cedric binded Delphi, but not before she was able to cast the charm, _the curse_ , on Scorpius. If it wasn’t for Cedric, they wouldn’t be able to come back in time. 

_I owe Cedric again. For my son’s life, and Scorpius’s_ , was the first thought that Harry processed as another long silence ensued. Albus was crying hard, his elbows propped into his knees and his palm covering both of his eyes. Harry could only rub Albus’s back, telling him that it’s okay, to let it all out, even if all he wanted was to join his son in crying along. The story seemed to tire him, and all he wanted to do was to lay down in bed.

Long silence ensued, with Albus’s hiccups and faint sobs echoing the empty hallways of St. Mungo’s. He wondered where Ginny was, and what was taking her so long, but partly, Harry was glad to be with Albus. He did not want to act surprised that Albus finally opened up to him, even if it was only for that moment. For a while, it was the only conversation they had that didn’t lead to a heavy heart, but with an understandable silence. And somehow, that silence between them was enough.

“Aren’t you going to get mad at me?” Albus muttered. He must have been waiting for a burst of Harry’s temper. Before diving into the conversation, Harry mentally prepared himself not to get mad or clash with Albus again. Surprisingly, listening to Albus made him a lot calmer, his train of thought more organized. He was finally seeing Albus as his son, and not as a stranger anymore.

"No," Harry replied "Why would I? To be honest, it was really brave and practical of you to be able to bring Scorpius and Delphi in one piece. Imagine if you had just left her back in 1995. Who knows what she might do there. Hoard another time-turner, I suppose."

"But," Albus insisted. "It was you or Scorpius. She made me choose--to abandon everything I stand for, or to abandon Scorpius." Albus bowed his head as if he was guilty of what he did. "I think it was obvious enough….what I tried to choose. And I think that you have every right to hate me for that." Albus paused, thinking hard before saying what he wanted to say. "If it was me, dad. If only it was me that she threatened to hurt, threatened to torture and threatened to kill….if it isn't only for Scorpius, I'd still stand up for you, you know. I'd stand up for what you fought for before. Even if I could have been killed. But Scorpius, dad…he doesn't deserve any of those. He got dragged into this mess, and if anyone deserves to be in Scorpius's place, it's me. Draco’s mad at me, and he ought to be. I should have been the one who…" Albus trailed off, unable to continue what he was saying.

“Albus. Al, look at me,” Harry said when he noticed Albus avoiding his gaze. “No one is to be blamed for what happened, alright? Especially not you. There are a lot of wizards who would never hesitate to pillage, to hurt, to kill. You did what you could at that time, and I think that’s a pretty brave thing to do,” Harry added. “And..about Draco, well, he and I have one thing in common--we tend to explode at really alarming situations. Especially in situations which involved others.”

There were times when Harry could see himself in Albus’s eyes. He hated carrying the title of the boy who lived while thinking about the others who died for him. He wanted to tell Albus everything--the stories of Voldemort in the past, every death he had seen, and the nightmares he used to wake up from every night. He wanted to tell Albus how those nightmares changed from losing himself to Voldemort to losing them, and how those were the ones that always kept him up during the early hours of morning. Yet, Harry knew that the only way he could tell Albus the story was to link his experiences through Albus's. He did not want to tell the story as the-boy-who-lived. Harry unknowingly did that before. Now, he cringed at the thought of sounding like one of those “when-I-was-your-age” people. He wanted to let Albus know him as Harry James Potter, his father. If Albus was going to need comfort, he would need someone to relate to, just like how he desperately needed to talk to someone before. If Harry had failed before, he hoped that he wasn’t about to screw this up. 

“It’s okay to think of others. Make sacrifices for the people you love the most, like Scorpius. I know how it is to think that you are always obliged to save them, always have to make things right. You think you have to fight their enemies, but sometimes, the biggest enemy you’ll have to face is yourself,” Harry let the quietness fill the room before continuing. “I used to have nightmares, you know. About the people who died because of me. People who were scarred for life because of me. Sometimes, you were there too. Their names still ring in my ears.”

“If there is one thing you need to know, Albus, is that don’t have to be too hard on yourself. You’re going to have to forgive yourself at some point. I cannot promise you that it’s going to be easy, but in the end, I know that it will be worth it,” Harry finished. Silent tears were pouring from Albus’s eyes, but at least his son seemed to be thinking clearly.

Later on, Albus leaned on side, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder. Harry rested his arm on Albus’s shoulder, At that quiet moment between them, the simple gesture was enough--there were no words to be said, no thoughts to be processed, no lingering actions. It was the closest they had to forgiveness, as father and son, and for now, that was okay for both of them.

“Dad?” Albus asked in a faint mumble. Harry responded with a light hum, which signaled Albus to continue. “At the tournament. When Cedric was about to go, I…” Albus paused, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “I told him that Amos loved him. Dearly. It might not seem like the right thing to say at that moment...but if I could not save him, if fate wouldn’t let me to, then at least he should know that he was loved.”

Harry wanted to cry, knowing that he still owed Cedric and wasn’t able to repay him. “I-I love you, Albus.” He felt his voice crack, suddenly having the urge to tell his son what he hadn’t been able to in years. “Despite everything that happened, I still do. No matter what you do, no matter who you are. And I really, really hope you know that.” 

“Me too,” Albus replied in a cracked voice. “I’ll try not to explode every time I walk into you next time,” he added lightly. 

“I don’t think we'll have to compare each other’s angst in life, you know. I think we just have to listen. Listen and understand. I mean, it worked,” Harry shrugged. “I think I should also give credit to the chocolates.” 

The two gave a light chuckle, finishing the rest of their chocolates in a comfortable silence. 

“Dad,” Albus whispered after a while. Harry could barely hear him, but he let his son go on. “Delphi told us when she was about to wipe out his memories, she made sure that I was to be forgotten. Completely. Cedric came for us, but he was too late. The charm was interrupted, but…” Albus trailed off, hesitating to continue.

“But…” Harry urged, wondering where Albus was trying to go. 

“It happened. It was already done. We don’t know the extent to which Delphi altered Scorpius’s memories, but there’s a huge possibility…” Harry saw the dejected look in Albus’s eyes, a mixture of regret and immense sadness in him, like all hope he had was stripped out of him. If he heard it right, if all his assumptions were correct...he feared for the worst. He waited for Albus to say it, saying what he knew would completely damage his son for probably the rest of his life.

“When Scorpius wakes up, he won’t be able to remember me anymore.”

_Before it's too late_

_I'll take a step away_

_I know one word would make me go_

_Rushing back to you_

_I'll just shut my eyes_

_Forget that you were mine_

_How do you go from making one your home_

_And then just letting it all go_

_Let me take it in_

_Before it sinks in_

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10k+ WORD CHAPTER!!
> 
> There were a lot of first times for me in writing this chapter: writing 10k+ words in one chapter, describing someone having a panic attack and staying up late during the wee hours of morning just to finish this chapter.  
> At first, I didn't know how to accurately describe a panic attack. Personally, I can say that I've had one, but not a full-blown panic attack. I based Albus's scene from my his own thoughts, my experiences and a little bit of research. We all have different thoughts and experiences in panic attacks, but I guess we can agree with one thing--It's really hard to deal with them. I am proud of ya'll :) I'm really sorry if there were any mistakes, and I want to do better in the future so feedback would be great! I would love to hear your thoughts and opinions after reading this chapter, maybe even fangirl a bit.  
> P.S. I kept editing the years and dates (ex: 2022 --> 2021 --> finally 2020) because I was making this school year timeline. I honestly can't wait for September.


	3. Children Once Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus sees a surprising side of the people he thought he already knew. Getting a glimpse of Scorpius after the maze brought back melancholic emotions, but with a note, a single toffee and a surprising Draco Malfoy, maybe things won't be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello peeps! I decided to make this chapter a bit shorter than intended. Let’s chill a bit before we venture into another 10k+ word chapter hehe. I hope I wasn’t too late! Forgive me if I won’t be able to update that much as I’m currently preparing something for my best friend yieee. It won’t take longer than a month tho, so I guess that’s good! 
> 
> Again, was I too late? I’m sorry. I’ll give y'all a more accurate explanation: I tried reading this really sad fanfic which was beautifully constructed and written but it kind of bought back sad, personal memories and I just couldn’t go forward (I haven’t even reached half of the story when I closed the tab, not the author’s fault tho, she/he was super great and I love his/her other works!). After that I discovered “My Immortal” which was hilarious, browsed some Cursed Child facts and lamented on the fact that it’ll take a long time for me to see it, and laughed some more as I read (more like browsed) My Immortal. I heard it was a troll fic. Whoever wrote it, you made a legacy. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_I remember the days we spent together_

_Were not enough_

_And it used to feel like dreamin'_

_Except we always woke up_

_Never thought not having you_

_Here now would hurt so much_

-Tonight, FM Static

  
  


Albus didn’t notice that he drifted off to sleep until he woke up. The first thing he perceived was the sharp sensation of the cold, metal seats in one of St. Mungo’s hallways. He wanted to steal even a second of his time to procrastinate in waking up while sleep was trying to take over him again. That is, until he remembered that he wasn’t in the cozy refuge of the Slytherin common room. _No, not anymore._ He felt his body slump further as the incident prior to what brought him there flooded into his mind. Albus couldn’t help but wish that everything that happened was nothing but a catastrophic nightmare, and soon he will wake up by the giddy sound of Scorpius’s voice urging him to dress up and eat breakfast at the Great Hall. 

_Scorpius._

The thought of what happened to Scorpius was enough to jolt him awake from his slumber sleep. As the sudden realization of what happened pulled him back to reality, Albus felt another wave of panic crept into his mind. He never planned on drifting off to sleep. He knew that he would never be safe, no matter how many times his parents would attempt to assure him. They could still be attacked, anyone could be there at any second and there is no guarantee of protection. The last thing he could do was to let down his guard, and falling asleep was one way of doing it. 

He just felt so tired, and after shedding a few more tears on his father’s cloak, he didn’t feel like crying anymore. Then again, maybe having the urge to sleep after a long crying session is one way of your body telling you to rest after going through so much. At least, that’s what Albus thought as he put on his green rubber shoes, already laced with dry mud and traces of tiny grass leaves from the pitch. As he stared at his only comfortable pair of shoes that was on the verge of breaking apart, he made a mental note to convince his mum to buy another pair of shoes they bought at a local muggle shop. 

There was no one in sight, not even a glimpse of Draco, Harry and Ginny. Whether the trio were having a cup of tea or duelling each other to death, Albus thought that it wouldn't matter anyway. Engaging in a conversation would probably lead the tension between him and Draco grow. Still, part of him wanted Harry to let Draco know the full story. He was tired of retelling the story over and over again. Going over what happened felt like there was a constant viper following him around, reminding him that he cannot escape what happened to them. 

His only resort was to roam around the hallways of St. Mungo’s, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to disturb the patients. He had no idea of the time, nor did he have any idea on how long he’d slept. He assumed it was nighttime; nevertheless, Albus didn’t want to walk on Lockhart offering him another photograph or one of his non-existent merch. 

Albus wasn’t really in deep thinking as he strolled the silent hallways of the gloomy hospital. He didn’t know how long he had been walking in circles and going up and down the staircases. That is, until he heard a series of murmurs echoing along the corridors. He didn’t want to intrude at first, simply deciding to walk away and turn to another hallway. 

“If ever there’s literally a boggart in front of us-,” the voice was cut off by another person speaking, and as Albus was about to turn around, he had recognized Harry’s voice. The thing is, why would his father ask about boggarts?

“And why, Potter, all of a sudden, would a boggart appear in front of us? In St. Mungo’s?” Albus instantly recognized the posh, sarcastic remark of Draco. After all, he was the only one who called him “Potter,” in such a way. Despite this, there wasn’t a hint of scornfulness in his voice. Albus attempted to peek from another corridor, only to find the trio resting their backs against the wall. Ginny and Harry were standing beside each other, their shoulders touching side-by-side in a light, comfortable manner. Draco was leaning on the other side of the hallway, his long legs crossed snugly.

“Because, Malfoy, with all my experiences as an Auror, you’d be surprised at what comes out in unexpected places. What you thought were Venomous Tentaculas were simply gnomes, and what you thought were light posts were actually Hinkypunks,” Harry paused, a teasing smirk evident in his face. “Anyway, do you think our boggarts would turn out differently than the last time we have encountered one?” 

“Why on earth would you ask that? Besides, shouldn’t you know the answer as an Auror?” Draco mocked playfully, imitating Harry’s previous reasoning.

“Imagine the Council fighting over hiring Harry as an Auror,” Ginny interjected. “He defeated Voldemort for Merlin’s sake! _Yeah, using a Disarming Charm._ It’s Harry Potter, damnit.” The three of them laughed their heads off, acting like they were oblivious Hogwarts students for the first time. Each of them had a wondrous glint on their eyes, one that was so pure and raw at the same time. It was obvious that the three were bickering over existential questions for the past hour. To Albus, it seemed like the three weren’t carrying the wizarding world behind their backs. It felt like the world was yet depriving them of reality. A hint of innocence lingered in their eyes.

It was the first time Albus saw his parents, especially his father, happy after a long time. Like, _really happy._

“Hey, I’m asking the _real question_ here. You know, the ones that you would actually question your existence during the early hours of morning,” Harry added.

“I wouldn’t know,” Ginny mused, tossing her fiery red hair on her back. “You know what I do during the wee hours of morning? I sleep. So if I wake up to another one of your ramblings about marrying Pygmy Puffs, I’m going to sue you.”

“Hypothetically though, do you think our boggarts would be different now than it was before?” Harry insisted, prompting Ginny to look at Harry and ponder how deep he had already gone with his thoughts. 

“I mean, probably,” Draco answered. “Change is bound to happen, you know. We change, and our fears change along with us. It’s part of us, whether we like it or not.” 

A comfortable silence between them ensued, as if everyone was in deep thinking. Albus didn’t feel the need to break the stillness of the situation, but he didn’t want to walk out of the conversation either. Even though he felt like he was intruding, curiosity was urging him to stay and listen to what soon might be a serious discussion. Besides, the soles of his shoes were prone to making squeaky noises on the floor, and he didn’t really want that to be the reason for him to get caught spying around.

“Is that from Dumbledore?” Harry inquired, his eyebrows scrunched together. 

“No,” Draco chuckled lightly. “It was from Scorpius. He’d been rambling about the Dark World since he came back, and all he could talk about was Harry Potter being the Head of Magical Law Enforcement and his best friend existing.” 

The mention of Scorpius’s name shifted the mood of the conversation drastically, as if a strong gust of wind left the three of them breathless and at loss of words. Ginny was anxiously biting on her lower lip, while Harry was staring at the floor like it was suddenly the most interesting thing that captured his attention. Draco’s breath hitched, realizing what he’d said. The gravity of the situation seemed to dawn on them once again. Everyone was hesitant to say something; however, they too were afraid that their words would scar more than there should be. Although Albus had assumed that his dad had already told him the events that led them to where they were, he realized that he cannot take away the pain that came alongside with it. 

“How is he?” Ginny asked softly, finally breaking the thick, sullen silence that was surrounding them. There was an edge of hesitation on his voice that Albus instantly recognized. It was the tone his mother used when she accidentally found him at times when he was drowning in his own sadness. He remembered her soft tones the nights before boarding the Hogwarts Express, and recently, the last argument he had with his father at home. Even though Albus and Harry were slowly trying to work out the relationship they both wanted, he couldn’t help but cringe at the sudden memory. Ginny found him in the basement that time, sobbing uncontrollably and clinging to an old, chapped blanket layered with dust. Her hesitant yet promising voice was enough to temporarily comfort Albus, but not enough to assure him of everything. After all, she knew what she could do as a mother, but she too knew her limitations as a person. As much as she wanted to take away her son’s pain, she couldn’t. All she could do was be there. For Albus, that was enough.

“The Healers said...” Draco trailed off, absorbed in his own train of thoughts. “They said that the Cruciatus lasted for a minute, at least. It’ll be a bit discomforting for him when he wakes up, but they don’t think that there’ll be any drastic effects on his health. That’s good news, at least.”

Harry finally glanced up and peered at Draco, weighing down what to say. “But...that’s not just the problem, is it?” 

Draco drew another breath, struggling to deliver the news in his own words. “The Healers...their initial diagnosis confirmed that a Forgetfulness charm was casted on Scorpius. We do not know the extent of the damages Delphi had inflicted on his memories. Not yet. It’s for us to find out at the time he wakes up. They placed him in another room at the far end of the corridor, hoping that when he wakes up, he’d be free from any unwanted noise or distractions.” He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, Albus was surprised to see tears threatening to form on Draco’s eyes. 

“It’s just...what if he’s not the Scorpius that he was before? What if he doesn’t remember me? Or his mum? ” Draco paused, swallowing his own words. It took a great effort for him to continue. “Could there be anything worse than not remembering who you were?” Draco asked, almost a whisper.

“Hey,” Ginny interrupted, approaching Draco’s side in an instant. They were now opposite to Harry, who was back to staring at the ground. “Nothing’s happening yet. We don’t know what’s going to happen...yet. Those are only what if’s, and I recommend to stop sticking and relying on those,” she paused, letting Draco absorb what she just said. “The charm was interrupted, wasn’t it? Maybe it won’t be that bad…”

“I don’t want to lose him the same way I lost Astoria. I promised myself that I won’t let anything happen to him,” Draco whispered in a voice so faint that Albus couldn’t have probably heard if he was any farther. Yet, he understood. His voice was strained, as if Astoria had been in his mind all along. Albus understood now, the reason why he almost broke down in front of Albus. Draco was lonely as a child, he didn’t want to feel that same loneliness again. 

“You’re not going to lose him, Draco. He’s...he’s going to find his way in this world. That’s what we always do, don’t we? The world fucks us up, we break down, we restart our lives. They’re not like us, they will never be like us, and isn’t that better? They’ll grow and become a better version of ourselves, and that’s the most exhilarating thing...as a parent at least. And I-we really don’t know what’s going to happen, but maybe, just maybe--something good will come out of this. I believe it.” 

Harry and Draco turned to Ginny in surprise as she finally finished her short, momentous speech. Her gaze held comfort and softness. That is, until she reached into one of her oversized coats and grabbed an apple, casually biting into it. The loud sound of her crunching filled the halls of St. Mungo’s, enough to break the awkward tension among them. 

“Well, um,” Draco stammered, unsure of what to say. “Thank you...especially for that….surprising choice of words.” Albus briefly wondered whether he was talking about Ginny’s motivational assurance, or the curse that came along with it. If he was in a different situation, Albus would have not made an attempt to conceal his laughter. 

“He’s going to be okay. Really, you cannot promise not to let anything happen to someone. You can't promise not to let anything happen to him, because nothing would ever happen to him. It's life, and it’s shitty, but it’s beautiful. You’re going to have to let your child see that on his own. All you have to do is understand them, and be with them alongside the journey.” Ginny added, her voice turning soft and gentle. She offered a heartfelt smile at Draco, to which he simply returned. No dramatic words were needed between them--a smile was everything.

“I don’t know what’s more surprising,” Harry interjected, seemingly clueless at the same time. “Seeing you really soppy in front of Draco, quoting Finding Nemo, or carrying an apple with you all this time.”

“In your coat,” Draco added. “Seriously, was that bought from St. Mungo’s local shop? Or has it always been with you? And what the heck is Finding Nemo?” 

“I don’t know how long this has been here. Doesn’t matter, anyway,” Ginny mused, ignoring the Nemo question all of a sudden. The lighthearted aura of the conversation seemed to go back, cueing Albus to leave. After all, he had the information that he needed.

“Yet you still ban us from having candy,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“I know my brother’s joke shop better than you do. You’ll be surprised if you woke up the next day seeing James and Lily suspended on the roof.” Ginny averted her gaze to Draco. “Seriously, if you don’t know Finding Nemo, you’re missing out a lot and you should let Scorpius-”

The banter continued relentlessly. Albus barely heard what they were talking about as he walked away from them. A light smile threaded his lips, wondering how, despite going through fate’s scornful methods, were these people still able to laugh like the world isn’t beneath them. He had always imagined what it would be like to recover from his escapade. He knew that he wasn’t immune to nightmares. What Delphi had done to Craig would always haunt him in his waking days, and he knew that he would still bring them along in his sleep. Still, he had always imagined that Scorpius would be with him along the way.

Finding Scorpius’s room wasn’t easy. His only clue was that his room was situated at the “far end of the corridor,” yet he didn’t know what corridor that was. Albus assumed that the room was at the floor he was in; still, he had to check out the names on every room at the end of each hallway until he reached Scorpius.’ 

Little did he know, reaching his best friend’s room was harder than finding it. At least, that was what he thought as he finally faced the door. Albus hesitated for a bit before twisting the knob. He felt like he was invading Scorpius and Draco’s privacy, but really, that wasn’t his intention. He just wanted to see him privately. Probably say the things he wanted to say, a little part of him hoping that Scorpius might hear him. He was thankful that the room wasn’t laced with any magic or protection spells, probably so that Healers would be able to come and go easily if needed.

When he opened the door, the sight before him was not blissful. Dull, white paint flooded the room, yet bits of tattered paint were evident along the secluded parts. It was wider than he expected it to be, although he noticed that the other side of the room was almost empty, an unused, melancholy couch sitting against the wall. Dry, lackluster posters hung sadly against the wall. If the management was trying to capture a patient’s attention, Albus was sure that their efforts were futile. Long, unreadable documents were plastered amongst them, along with a huge poster which had a “ _REMINDERS”_ headline written in huge letters. On the other side of the room, a tattered bedside table can be seen. Fresh bundles of daisies, sunflowers and mums littered the table, which Albus suspected was Draco’s doing. When he thought of it, he felt guilty not bringing anything for his best friend.

Seeing Scorpius was different.

As he saw his best friend lay on a bed, he had observed a lot of changes in him that wasn’t there the last time Albus saw him, noticing that the color in his cheeks was slowly coming back. He wasn’t as pale as he was before, and he didn’t look like he was in pain. At first, it could easily be concluded that Scorpius was sleeping and would wake up anytime soon. Part of Albus wished that he really was, and that he was going to tackle him to death anytime soon (Normally, Scorpius was the light sleeper, but this could be Albus’s chance to get revenge for unnecessarily waking him up during the weekends). 

He was afraid to go near him, let along take another step. Albus wanted to lay alongside him or just be the one to stay on the hospital bed instead of his best friend. He wanted to shake him away and tell him that everything was a horrible nightmare, and that everything was going to be okay. Yet, he was afraid he might do something again that would make Scorpius worse. That’s what he always did, didn’t he? 

He wanted to cry, he wanted to break down, but that wasn’t what his body was doing. As he inched closer to Scorpius’s best friend, he only felt numbness clinging to him, not trying to let go. He hated himself for letting his heart feel that way. He already knew what happened, already accepted it. He was done crying his heart out. After all, he had already told the whole story to Harry. That should be it, right? He should have accepted what he’d done, what _Delphi_ had done, yet it seemed like he was sinking back again. The worst feeling was coming back again no matter how he tried to get rid of it. 

He didn’t realize how close he was to Scorpius until his knees bumped into the cold, metal sensation of the bed. He gripped the bed rails tightly, rocking his hands back and forth. Albus was unsure what to say, let alone do. 

“Everyone believes that you’re going to be okay,” Albus murmured, staring at Scorpius’s features. His body was wrapped in a cool, white blanket, reaching up to his shoulders. His toes were sticking up from the blanket, probably because of Scorpius’s sudden growth spurt. “I believe so too. We’re all waiting for the day you’re going to wake up, including the Healers.”

Truthfully, Albus was scared of what would happen if Scorpius would wake up. There were a lot of what if’s playing in his mind, each of them getting worse every second. Sure, Cedric came to the rescue and interrupted Delphi’s charm, but not one of the Healers can determine the gravity of her charm on Scorpius’s memories. The day he’ll wake up was the day he was going to forget about Albus. 

For the second time, Albus looked at the flowers that were settled on his bedside table. As if prompted, he dove his hand deeply into the pockets of his gilet, searching for something in mind. His hand felt pieces of torn, crumpled parchments, along with chocolate wrappers he forgot to throw a while ago. Once he had identified what he was searching for, he hesitantly pulled something out of his pocket, careful not to litter the floor with his undesirable trash. 

In his hand was a piece of milk chocolate, still uneaten and unperturbed. Albus remembered how they used to banter about which kind of chocolate is the best. Scorpius argued that it was milk-flavored chocolate, to which Albus argued that his best friend only fancied them because it matches his white, blond hair. He thought almond chocolates were the best, and that the almonds literally gave light and flavor to the chocolate itself. 

“I’m sorry if this is all I have. I really don’t know how to conjure flowers out of my wand, and if I could, it would probably be a disaster,” Albus added, filling the silence that formed the room.

Slowly, unknowingly, his other hand danced along Scorpius’s arm, which was protruding from his blanket. It wasn’t as cold as it was before. In fact, the warmth of his skin was back. Maybe it was because of the healing spells and potions the Healers gave him; nevertheless, relief completely filled him.

After the relief was a feeling he couldn’t point out. Regret? Sorrow? Fear? Heartbreak? All he knew was that the feeling prompted a burning sensation behind his eyes, and before he knew it, silent tears were squeezing out of him. Albus could only sniff quietly, wary that someone might hear or burst in from the door. Albus was terrified, really terrified. This time, however, he wasn’t terrified for his life. He knew that hugging was still an awkward thing between him and Scorpius, but he couldn’t help but jump into conclusions that maybe, after all that happened, he wouldn’t be able to embrace Scorpius like he did before. The thought of that sent his heart into shards and pieces, just like a broken fragile glass. If what he thinks will come true, then it was going to seem like he was preparing for the inevitable. For what might be the worst nightmare of his life. 

“I’m really sorry,” Albus whimpered, his voice strained. “For everything.”

He didn’t want to see Scorpius like this. He never wanted to see the people he loved in pain because of him, and the sudden realization that even him, Albus Potter, couldn’t do anything but watch. The emotions were pouring out of him now, and there was no backing out. His hand stopped on Scorpius's hand, holding onto it. His hand was so warm, and Albus wondered why his hand was so cold. 

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this. It should have been me, you know. Dad said it wasn’t my fault, that it was neither our fault, but every time I look at you and see what happened, I-I couldn’t help but think that it was on me.” Albus gripped Scorpius’s hand tighter, afraid that letting go of him entailed letting go of the strings that bind their friendship together.

“I’m really scared. I mean, I know that there’s a huge probability of it happening, but I’m still so scared that you won’t have any idea of who we were before,” Albus added. “What I said before--at the maze, I really meant that. I wish I could have told you earlier.

“I really don’t know what would happen, but I just want you to know that whatever happens and whoever you are, you will always be the Scorpius that I know and love. Nothing could change that. Not even Delphi. Just know that the four years of our friendship was the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me, and I wouldn’t exchange it for anything.”

Albus paused, letting himself absorb his own words. “Just know that you will always, _always_ be my best friend. I will always mean the same ‘I love you,’ the way I did at the maze. _Always_.”

Albus’s breath hitched, using his shirt to wipe the tears and snot overcoming his face and making his vision blurry. He had to get out before healers might barge into him soon. 

“Just...please remember that,” he said. He reluctantly placed the milk chocolate along the bedside table. _Was this going to be the only thing Scorpius will have from him when he wakes up? Was that really it?_

Just then, he noticed a quill with a small bottle of ink at the far end of the table. Suddenly having an idea, he snatched a blank piece of parchment from his pocket and snatched the quill. Before thinking rationally, he dipped the quill into a thick bottle of ink and began scribbling something with his left hand. He didn’t care if some of the ink smeared the side of his hand. He was originally right handed, but he didn’t want Scorpius to wake up and find the note, only to see him at school and recognize his own handwriting and think that he had another stalker. Albus blew unto the parchment, letting the ink dry faster before attaching it to the chocolate. 

He wiped the remaining tears that smeared his face. He casted a final glance at Scorpius, and before he ventured into another teary-eyed session. After a moment of hesitation, Albus bowed his head and opened the door.

Yet, as he was about to leave the room and close the door, he was surprised to see another figure blocking the way.

“I-I’m sorry,” he blurted out, staring at the black robes that seemed to fit the man perfectly. At first glance, one would think that he wasn’t a healer but just a mere visitor. He flinched, preparing himself for getting reprimanded. “I-I know shouldn’t be here, but there wasn't anyone roaming around and...” 

Albus trailed off, glancing up only to find out that the figure, indeed, wasn’t one of the Healers. It was Draco Malfoy, and Albus instantly wished that he was anywhere other than his current spot. He realized that getting reprimanded might be better than getting accused of invading someone’s privacy. He was silent for a while, gaping at the man before him.

“And...and…” Albus tried to continue, but found himself at lost in his own words. His eyes darted everywhere, afraid that maintaining eye contact with Draco will create more tension between them.

“The security has always been crap in this hospital,” Draco chimed in, his light, sarcastic tone leaving a dumbstruck Albus in its wake. “For an institution run by magical Healers and employees, their safety charms aren’t that….exceptional.” 

Expecting an infuriated Draco, Albus stood in his place, trying to think of a sensible thing to say. He must have looked like a stunned goldfish, and mildly thought that Scorpius would probably ramble on why he wasn’t trying to make a good impression on his dad. 

Albus decided to say the safest thing to say at the moment.“I…I should go,” he paused, calculating his next words carefully. “I know family members are only allowed to visit so…”

Just as he was about to leave and turn around, Draco’s said something brought him to another wave of surprise. 

“Aren’t you family too?” 

Albus stopped in his tracks, freezing in place. Draco’s tone turned into something light and playful from something that was soft and mellow. He already found out Draco’s softer side just a while ago, but what surprised him was that the tone was addressed to him. He was seeing a rare side of Draco, one that was different from what he saw at the Pitch. Then again, Draco Malfoy was a man full of surprises. 

“Me?” Albus confirmed, his voice small and strained. Unless Draco could see something that he couldn’t, there was no one Draco could possibly be addressing but him. “After everything that happened?”

What he said must have probably rendered Draco silent, and once again, the hallway was filled with nothing but the faint rustling of wind and faraway noises from Healers and patients rushing back and forth from other floors. Albus, not really knowing what to do, fiddled with the edges of his shirt, the stitches holding its bottom creases seemed to be falling apart from usage.

“Scorpius always gushed about you at the Manor,” Draco said, his gaze still soft on Albus. “Especially to Astoria. When his mum was alive, she used to ask questions about you as Scorpius helped her with muggle gardening. Of course, the two weren’t too keen on wrestling Mandrakes or Venomous Tentaculas. Astoria preferred planting the muggle way, settling on a variety of Scottish Bluebells and Mollies. Anyway, Scorpius was only too happy to answer them, even going to the extent of exceeding Astoria’s questions while giving little bits of experiences about your mischiefs and everything,” he paused, as if reminiscing something worth remembering. “Not that he was keen on getting detention, but I remembered Scorpius talking about something that particularly happened in his second year. He said the two of you used to hang along the Great Lake and considered it a safe haven, helping you avoid all the bullies and torments from hideous students. Apparently, Scorpius climbed all the way up to one of the trees. I didn’t know who he was trying to impress, or why was he doing it. He swinged branches just to see rustles of leaves fall on you, watching your hair grow like a bird’s nest. Scorpius even said that he could fit three eggs because of how messy it was. He prided himself for climbing all the way to the top. That is, until he realized that he couldn’t get himself down.”

Albus stifled a laugh, a distinct memory suddenly occurring to him. Remembering the innocence of Scorpius’s laugh filled him with warmth, as if everything that happened back then was nothing but a dream. He noticed Draco chuckling, and that made him feel better..almost. “He said you spent hours trying to get himself to go down the tree. You two almost called Professor McGonaggall for help, but your coaching really did all the work. Besides, he knew that you couldn’t find any excuse without seeming ridiculously funny. The story struck me the most because...because I used to do it when I was a student,” Draco smirked. “I believe it had something to do with a certain Potter too.”

“But you knew how to get down back then, didn’t you?” Albus butted in, the shine in his eyes somehow back again. 

“I did, without the help of Crabbe and Goyle. The three of us were laughing so hard at the time, making the Manor a temporary paradise after months full of worrying because of Astoria’s deteriorating health,” Draco swallowed, directly staring at Albus. “The point is, you make him happy. Like really happy. When...when Astoria was gone, he was really sad for a long time. I didn’t know how to talk to him...how to comfort him. I didn’t have a manual. But you...he was really happy when you attended the funeral. Since then, your name filled the Manor every time he payed a visit or a vacation.”

Draco stared at Albus, using the boy’s silence as a permission to continue. “I’m sorry..about...you know, what happened earlier. On lashing out on you. I really am. I just...I needed to vent after everything that happened. I didn’t mean to direct my anger towards you. I thought I wanted to get angry at Delphi or those who were engaged to her, but I realized that I was just angry at the situation.” Draco placed his hand behind his nape, trying to find the right words to say. He had never been good at apologies, but ever since Astoria, he found himself getting better and better at it.

“It’s okay. I-I understand,” Albus mumbled, bowing his head while once again fiddling with his shirt.

“The Healer’s didn’t find any drastic effects of the Cruciatus Curse on him,” Draco added, trying to change the topic of the conversation. “That’s a bit of good news.”

“I know,” Albus chirped, instantly regretting what he said. He glanced up at Draco, only to find a light smirk tugging on his lips.

“I should have known, otherwise you wouldn’t have found out where Scorpius’s room was,” Draco mused. He peeked at Scorpius’s room, before returning his gaze at Albus.

“I see you’ve left a chocolate and a note. Do you want me to tell-”

“No,” Albus interjected, cutting off Draco’s offer. “Please, don’t…we don’t know how much of his memories Delphi wiped out. For all we know, I might be a complete stranger to him and...I don’t want him getting more confused as ever.” The mention of Delphi’s name still sent shivers to Albus’s spine. “Just tell him that it was from you, from someone...from anyone.”

“You will always be his best friend,” Draco said, breaking the silence that surrounded them. “And even if he wakes up and you’ll be a...a complete stranger to him, the friendship, the 4 years, will never be gone. It will always be in your heart. But I can respect what you want.” Draco finished. 

“Thank you,” Albus whispered, sincerity laced in his voice. “I-I should go. Before mum starts to get worried.”

Draco nodded. “I’ll check on Scorpius for a while, maybe make the sofa more comfortable for me.” He rolled his eyes. As if remembering something, Draco pulled something out of his pocket and offered it to Albus. To his surprise, it was one of the toffees from Honeydukes. 

“I nicked it out from Scorpius’s trunk at home. The boy stuffed himself _endlessly_. I heard that you have a sugar ban or something at home. A bit of a shame, really. But, considering that Harry and Ginny were practically taking care of hyperactive kids, it kind of makes sense. Still, don’t tell her it was from me.” 

Draco winked as he held out the toffee. For a moment, Albus briefly wondered what it was with adults and their obsession with nicking sweets off. Perhaps it was a sign, a reflection that a part of their child-like character had never gone. 

“I won’t tell,” Albus said as he proudly accepted Draco’s toffee.

“Send Potter my regards,” Draco chortled, a slight smirk forming in his face.

“I will,” Albus responded, before he finally turned his back and walked away. 

  
  
  


_Tonight I've fallen and I can't get up_

_I need your loving hands to come and pick me up_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points that you might have grasped on:
> 
> 1) Draco, Ginny and Harry were the trio we never thought we needed, but we did  
> 2) The Finding Nemo reference lol sorry  
> 3) Drapple but it’s Ginny instead char  
> 4) Draco’s character development  
> 5) Scorpius climbing off a tree to impress Albus was a reflection of Draco climbing off a tree to get Harry’s attention aND I LIVE FOR THAT HEADCANON. (BTW it was inspired from a Tumblr post so…)  
> 6) Draco smirking as he remembered what he did for Potter to notice him in the Goblet of Fire (I don’t know if it was ever in the book...it has been so long since I’ve read the originals. They are always in my heart tho. ALWAYS.)  
> 7) Seriously what’s with Malfoys and their obsession with trees and certain Potters
> 
> So yeah, the chapter should be longer than I intended it to be, but I dunno, it felt right to end it in a light way after, you know, a lot of crying and everything. I mean, there will be more crying in the future, but let’s give these people a break.
> 
> My writing process sucks. Anyway, hehe. Thank you so much for reading! Feedback and Kudos will be amazing, but what’s more important is that we all both enjoy what we do.


	4. Bouquets and Photographs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bouquets, anonymously written notes and a packet of milk chocolate wasn't something that Scorpius expected when he woke up. As he ponders the events that led him to St. Mungo's, a set of photographs will lead him to emotional and unexpected revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

_Remember the day_

_Cause this is what dreams should always be_

_I just want to stay_

_I just want to keep this dream in me_

_You're losing your memory now_

_You're losing your memory now_

-Losing Your Memory, Ryan Star

  
  


_Scorpius found himself comfortably snuggling in his own bed._

_His mind was hanging from a thread between sleep and awake, his eyelids fluttering from the pail streaks of moonlight reaching the depths of the Great Lake. A big part of him wanted to get cozy in his sheets and stay behind the comfort in his dreams while-_

_“Scorp!”_

_To his surprise, he felt something huge and soft smack him square in the face, his hair getting a bit more ruffled than before. A brief moment of surprise laced his features, which was quickly followed by a quick, playful grunt of frustration. He dug deeper into his sheets as he grabbed one of his pillows in an attempt to shield another playful attack._

_Even though his attacker had the nerve to interrupt what must have been a glorious sleep, he never found himself infuriated at all. In fact, it was the exact opposite. An odd sense of lightness swelled into his heart, but he was not about to give that satisfaction to whoever that person was. Scorpius tried to suppress a laughter to which he miserably failed. He dug his face deeper into his blankets to conceal a blush, only to find them snatched against his chest. The freezing, ice-cold air crept through him like fast, incoming waves. Scorpius momentarily cursed himself for not wearing another layer of his mismatched socks._

_“Stop that! It’s like midnight,” Scorpius whined, flipping himself backward as he hugged his pillow to himself. He felt another pillow smack him from the back, followed by a strong pair of hands rocking his shoulders back and forth._

_“C’mon, Scorp. It’s your birthday!” The voice was light and undetectable. He wanted to know whom the voice belonged to, but it seemed like that person was talking in an ocean and he’s underwater. Still, with everything that was happening around him, Scorpius couldn’t bring himself to care._

_“We’re going to have a lot of time for that later on,” he mumbled, his face squeezed against the comfort of his pillow._

_Suddenly, he felt something light and flurry tickle his cheeks and nose. Slowly, it began crawling down into his neck until it landed down his tickle spot. Scorpius instinctively flinched, letting out a high-pitched giggle. Instead of scurrying away, the creature snuggled comfortably into his nape as Scorpius visibly relaxed._

_He felt warm hands graze his nape, and suddenly, the creature was carried out of his neck in a second. In a daze, he propped himself up in his bed. His hair must have been sticking out everywhere, and one would find his just-got-out-of-bed self completely different and staggering than what he used to. He stared at the creature before him with utmost fascination and tenderness._

_Now that Scorpius had a clear view of it, he instantly recognized the creature as a Pygmy Puff, it’s pink, fluffy hairs sticking out of it. Slowly, he struck his left arm in an attempt to caress the Pygmy Puff, but found himself quickly retracting his hand._

_“It’s okay,” the voice assured. “It won’t bite.”_

_At first, Scorpius was a bit reluctant to hold the cute ball of fluriness, afraid that even a single touch might instantly crush it. Just then, the Pygmy puff opened its eyes and stared expectantly at him. Its eyes reflected pools of green and blue and for a second, he could make out a glint of his own reflection. Scorpius’s hand hung in the air as he took his time to decide, confusion and softness lacing his features. He knew that he was taking longer than a second to decide, but what if the Pygmy Puff never felt sheltered with him? A series of questions morphed in his anxious mind: ‘What if it ran away? What if it cried? What if it decided that it doesn’t want him to be his pet anymore? What if-’_

_A soft, warm hand grazed the top of his own. It gave him a light, downward nudge and suddenly, he found himself caressing one of the tiniest, cutest creatures on Earth. “Cutest” was an understatement. Scorpius must have looked like an idiot, gently cooing heartwarming reassurances at the Pygmy Puff._

_“I bought him for you as a pet,” he heard the voice, once again seeming distant and far away. “From the joke shop. They were really hard to breed, but I managed to get one from him,” it added, a hint of pride lacing its voice. What Scorpius doesn’t understand is that he could make out its words perfectly, but for some reason he couldn’t recognize the voice._

_“I know you wanted a book, but I wanted to give it to you as a change. You always talked about having the peacocks in your home while your mom was alive, and how the two of you used to spend hours feeding and admiring them. I could still give you the book if you want but-”_

_Suddenly, Scorpius leapt and gave a huge-bone crushing hug to the boy in front of him. The figure was a blur to him, but he felt the person tense as he tried to balance the Pygmy Puff that was trying to sleep in its hands. After a while, the boy slowly got used to the gesture as he comfortably returned the embrace and relaxed his grip on Scorpius._

_“Thank you,” Scorpius mumbled, sticking his eyes to the person’s sweater, afraid of the tears that were soon forming in his eyes. “For bringing my mum back.”_

_The figure was silent for a while and for a moment, it was just them and the cute ball of Pygmy Puff. Scorpius wanted nothing more but to pause time itself and stay in that exact moment again. No words to break the silence, no disruptions to break them free. After a long, comfortable silence, the voice spoke again in a soft, tranquil tone that was even barely a whisper._

_“Happy birthday.”_

_Suddenly, everything was a hazy blur of colors and surroundings, and he found himself engulfed in another scenario._

_This time, Scorpius was in a completely different environment than from where he was before. What was once a dark, quiet common room was now a bright, sunny day. He could feel the warm breeze sweep against him like an old friend, as well as the unusual number of dry leaves clinging unto his robes. Scorpius had an odd, upside down view of his surroundings. Beneath him was a patch of green, luscious grass with wildflowers blooming from random areas. There were a lot of trees, and when he looked further, he could see the Great Lake not far away from him. He knew that he was probably positioned awkwardly right then._

_That’s when Scorpius realized that he was hanging upside down from a tree._

_Scorpius was literally upside down, with his legs serving as his only support from the tree. For someone who wasn’t fond of running let alone any strenuous physical activity, he sure can hold and maintain his body weight. He could feel the blood rushing in his head as well as the momentary ache that slowly crept up on his legs. Still, the pain didn’t matter him as he felt a wave of exhilaration and adrenaline fill him up._

_Scorpius let loose a shriek of delight that echoed slightly along the lake and the rest of the forest. It seemed like he was a child riding a broom for the first time, the intensity and agitation in his eyes ever living than before. After he was able to keep up with his own exhilaration and excitement, his gaze averted to another scene._

_There, right in front of him, was another figure. He was all blurry and everything, but then again, so was the rest of his dreams. He was never able to detect specific details of his surroundings, nor could he control what he said or did; nevertheless, Scorpius just got along with it._

_Who the “mysterious person” was, he couldn’t bother to know. What took Scorpius’s attention was that person’s hair. No, it wasn’t beautifully arranged or combed like others’. In fact, it was the exact opposite. Strands of his black hair were sticking around, as if the boy couldn’t be bothered to ruffle it himself. Apart from that, random pieces of fresh and dry leaves struck around the boy’s hair as if they had opted to use his hair as cozy, tempting shelter._

_“You know that I could grab random eggs and place it on the top of your head and finally call it a bird’s nest, right?” Scorpius asked, his tone light and cheerful._

_“Go on, then,” the voice challenged. “As long as you could get yourself out of there.”_

_Scorpius let out a small, pitiful wine, but the figure did nothing but chuckle and rest his head among his knees._

_Suddenly, Scorpius had the urge to grab and ruffle the boy’s hair. It was messy and all over the place, the kind of style that would probably set his grandparents off. TO Scorpius, there was no denying that it looked soft and cuddly._

_His hand was reaching out on him, going further and further and-_

_Just as he wanted more, Scorpius found himself trapped in another one of the swirling vortexes of terror. This time though, he knew that the next scenario was not going to be good. He had a dangerous feeling that this time, everything was darker and...sinister._

_Scorpius found himself in the forest again, although this time it wasn’t anything like his previous manifestation of it. Everything was dry, cold and dark. The faint rays of the sun were protruding beneath the trees, but even the sun wasn’t a match for the gloominess of his surroundings. Every glance, every look and every shadow screamed misery to him, and he wanted nothing more than to run and curl up as much as possible. He briefly pondered how the forest could have changed so much at so little._

_A sudden chill swept through his body, piercing his insides like a clinging viper. It was the odd sense of coldness that made him freeze in place. It wasn’t even winter yet the frigid, numb wind that was piercing into his skin was worse than standing in the middle of the street at winter’s peak. The frigid, crisp numbness penetrated his mind relentlessly. Something was wrong. Very wrong. A lot of winters had come and passed into his life, and not a single one of them was this bad. That is, until he looked up._

_“Of course,” Scorpius muttered, the realization sent a heap of terror and dread in him. “Dementors.”_

_As if they weren't content enough, the madness didn’t stop at that point. The horror that came along with it was worse. Scorpius had heard about them in Defense Against the Dark Arts and read about their origins in a few books. Dementors were so repulsive that they weren’t even recognized as creatures. They were definitely not in his copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them. Still, no books nor knowledge could prepare him for what’s worse._

_Suddenly, he could hear his mum’s voice. She’s real, she’s back, but then she’s sick and frail over again. Scorpius was back at St. Mungo’s, back in Astoria’s chambers, back at the Malfoy Manor; however, the place that held such a bright, energetic atmosphere was fading away to the point where he wasn’t sure if he could even consider the Manor his home anymore. No, not when everything he had was falling apart._

_Scorpius could hear her, feel her, he was too close yet he feels so far away from his mum. She’s helpless, and no matter what he does, he cannot help her and he’s watching Astoria die all over again and he’s hurting and she’s fading and-_

_A voice interrupts him from his thoughts, firm and strong, enough for him to get slowly being pulled back to reality. He can see it. It’s so far away, but it’s there. A glimmer of hope. A ray of light. A faint gesture that everything will be okay. Scorpius reached into it, going farther and farther until-_

_\----_

The first thing that Scorpius noticed was the blinding white light.

He screwed his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the radiating light that interrupted his sleep. Scorpius felt like he had been immersing himself in a deep, heavy delirium. He tried blocking the light with his arms, but lifting them was more of a challenge than a task. Waking up was a great feat for him, which was very unusual for someone who was an energetic, morning person. Then again, Scorpius had always been a light sleeper. 

After blinking for a probable multitude of times, he squinted, straining his eyes to make out his surroundings. At first, everything was a blur to him. There were tiny crusts littering in his eyes, obscuring his vision even more (he was in his 2nd year when he found out that those “crusts” were actually called eye gounds, but her mum insisted on calling them “crusts.”) After a lot of straining, blinking and squinting, he slowly had a clearer view of his environment. Scorpius was definitely certain that he wasn’t in Hogwarts, nor was he in the comfort of Malfoy Manor. Instead, he was situated in a pale, bland room covered in white, chapped paint. There were a series of posters plastered on the wall that he would have found interesting and informative at some point. On his side was a small table that would be so dull if it weren’t for the flowers and cards that decorated it. 

Scorpius felt another heavy weight clinging to his side. He glanced and found his dad resting on his bedside. He was sitting on what must be like a very unbearable plastic chair, while his head was hastily buried in his arms. Although he knew that his father carried himself well, he certainly seemed different now. What was once his gel-slicked hair was now frizzy and uncombed, its strands protruding everywhere like a crown. The buttons of his robes were tucked messily, while some weren’t even tucked at all. 

For a moment, worry crept into his mind. The last time he saw his father like this was when Astoria was having one of those “days,” where the effects of her curse had gotten really bad. Those were the times when he wanted to go up to his father and cry a heap of tears, but he knew that Draco was trying to stay strong for the both of them. He had always been like that, and it was one thing Scorpius that admired about his father. Still, there were times when he wanted to see past the mask of confidence and sternness that he wore. He wanted to get to know the man behind the lavish robes and the grey eyes. 

Scorpius wondered that maybe this was once of them. Maybe this was his chance. Slowly, carefully, he gently poked Draco’s hair with his finger. On an average, normal day, Draco would have been mildly irritated that someone would ruin his hair-do. Astoria would laugh it off, and seconds after he would try and conceal a laughter for not giving his wife the satisfaction. 

When Draco didn’t stir, he gently nuzzled his fingers under his father’s hair. He groaned for a bit and slightly tilted his head.

“Scorpius?” Draco’s eyes widened as he sat up in his chair in an instant. He staggered for a bit, the sudden blood rush making Draco screw his eyes shut. 

“Dad,” he croaked, finding his voice hoarse and raspy.

“I..I…” Draco was at loss of words, scrambling around and thinking about his next move. “I-I’m going to call a Healer, okay?” 

As Draco made a move to get out of his chair and head towards the door, Scorpius instinctively reached into his father’s arm. He hoped he wasn’t too forceful, as he was dozed off enough to raise his voice.

Draco momentarily paused, his gaze averting from the door to Scorpius’s hand grasping his. Shock and puzzlement laced his features yet Draco was trying hard not to show it. 

“W-will you stay?” Scorpius asked, his voice small and gentle. He was back to being his 5-year old self, traumatized by a nightmare to the point where he had to go up to his parent’s room, tears and snot dripping from his face. “Please?”

Draco’s expression dropped off in an instant, replaced with an uncertain softness Scorpius couldn’t comprehend. His eyebrows were furrowed once again, although this time it wasn’t from reading another one of the Prophet.

“Are you okay?” Draco asked as he reluctantly sat in his chair. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m...fine,” Scorpius replied, trying to assure Draco. “Fine, A bit great, really. It’s like..like waking up from a long nap. A little bit sore and doze off, but still good as ever.”

A long, awkward silence ensued, neither of them knowing what to say. Scorpius was fiddling with his blanket, while Draco’s gaze was constantly averting from Scorpius to his lap. 

“What happened?” Scorpius finally inquired, scrunching his eyebrows together. “Where am I? Not that I’m complaining…” He returned his gaze to one of the flowers piled up on the bedside table in an organized manner. Scorpius picked up the nearest flower he could reach, continuously twirling its stem in his hand. One of the petals of the sunflower fell off, sweeping aimlessly to his lap.

“These flowers are beautiful. Certainly makes this place less dismal. Not that it is, I mean the posters look interesting…” he stared at Draco, who was staring at him intensely he wondered if his father suddenly had a peculiar obsession with flowers. “Do you want one?”

“I-yes. Thank you,” Draco mumbled, accepting the flower that Scorpius over-excitedly offered to the point where the sunflower was directly in front of his face he felt like he was going to sneeze.

“You…” Draco began, his voice wavering and hesitant. “You don’t know what happened?”

“I...I remember being in the train…” Scorpius tried wracking his brain for something...anything that led him to his weird isolated room. Everything was a blur afterwards, like he was so close to taking hold of something yet he was being forced back from the start. After that….after that _what?_

“It’s okay. You don’t have to answer that immediately. ” Draco said, cutting off Scorpius’s deep thinking. “You’re in St. Mungo’s, specifically in one of their private wards. Something ..happened. There had been an attack...an accident.”

Scorpius’s mind was filled with confusion and puzzlement, and now he was more confused than ever. “An attack? Who would attack Hogwarts? _Why_ would there be an attack?” Scorpius asked, a series of questions came blubbering out of his mouth. 

“Well you see, that’s what I should be asking you,” Draco muttered, which Scorpius barely heard. “The impostor is under heavy investigation right now, and soon enough there will be a trial that would send her to Azkaban.”

“Impostor?” Scorpius’s mind was racing, and he had no idea of what was happening. “So the attacker was a girl, then?”

“Yeah...you could say that,” Draco paused, choosing his words carefully. “You were one of those whom she saw as a...vulnerable target.”

Draco stared at Scorpius for a long time “I need to get out and call the Healers. They can check on you and...they’ll know the right thing to do.”

Scorpius didn’t know what his father was talking about. Still, Scorpius had no idea what had happened. His dad seemed to know more, but either way he was sure Draco was not going to tell anything about it. 

“O-okay,” Scorpius hesitantly replied, “You’ll be back, won’t you?” He asked as Draco advanced towards the door. He tried sounding as calm as possible, but his expression must have betrayed him as Draco offered him a warm, genuine smile.

“I will.”

As Draco shut off the door, Scorpius realized how silent it was as he was left alone in his own thoughts. Something happened back at the school, something terrible, yet he couldn’t bring himself to remember anything. Was he in shock? Was he in a coma? How long had he been there? He silently wished he was able to ask that to his father. After all, Scorpius had probably missed a lot of homework from being at St. Mungo’s right now. He had no idea of what made him a “vulnerable target.” 

Draco said he was one of those whom she targeted. One of _those._ Which means he’s not the only one. 

Scorpius knew he was overthinking. Again. If overthinking was a skill he’d probably be rich by now, but no. His instincts demanded more and more answers by the second, but his mind won’t offer any of it. He would rather be anywhere right now other than St. Mungo’s. Even though being a Healer had always been one of his childhood dreams, there were times when Scorpius wasn’t sure if he could actually handle it. Scorpius had always endured countless visits at St. Mungo’s, although none of them were happy and uplifting. In fact, each visit was a constant reminder that his mum wasn’t getting better, that Astoria was getting sicker and frailer, that he was inevitably going to lose her anytime soon. 

And, right now, he was here at St. Mungo’s, with no memory of what had happened. Maybe he was just in partial shock? Maybe he could tell the Healers what happened to him, and this time there won’t be any plot holes or spaces in between.

He never pondered how long he had been alone with his thoughts, but the next thing he knew was the door opening once more, only to reveal Draco and a healer. The healer was a girl, and to his surprise, younger than he thought any Healer would be. The Healers who had dealt with his mum’s case were usually a bit older, and always opted to speak in a low, grandfatherly voice. It was probably because the studies about blood maledictions and curses were so advanced and rare that they were rarely chosen and analyzed. 

“Hi, Scorpius,” She greeted her voice warm and welcoming. She gave her a light, genuine smile. “I’m Healer Olly, and I’ve been checking for you for a week now.”

“A week?!” Scorpius exclaimed, frantically his gaze alternating between Draco and Olly. 

“Yes, you sleepyhead.” Healer Olly chuckled, as if being unconscious for seven days straight wasn’t something he should worry about. “What’s the deal if you have slept for 7 days, anyway? I would kill for even an hour’s sleep,” she paused for a second, thinking about what she said. “Maybe not literally. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“I have...homework,” Scorpius sullenly replied, accepting defeat for coming up with a reasonable excuse as to why sleeping for seven days is _not_ a good idea.

Draco gave a light "ahem,” which doesn’t sound like his father was having a coughing fit at all. If anything, his father seemed to tense at Healer Olly’s seemingly harmless joke. If Scorpius was under a different circumstance himself, he would have found his father’s humor funny at the time.

“Okay, so…” Healer Olly trailed off, his expression turning from light hearted to serious at once. Her gaze held warmth and compassion, which offered slight comfort to Scorpius. “As your assigned Healer, I’m here to report to you current updates about Scorpius’s health and well-being, as well as questions regarding the medical and magical implications of any charms and curses she fired at you.” 

“Charms? Curses?” Scorpius questioned, his mind back to being a raging inferno once again. “Who is this attacker? And what did she do?” He knew that he was probably sounding more frantic and frustrated by the second. Waking up in a strange room with no idea of what happened to you would make anyone in his place explode like that.

“You haven’t told him yet, have you?” Healer Olly asked, breaking the silence that began penetrating the room. 

Draco, who looked wary at the same time, got closer to the Healer and spoke in a hushed whisper. “A few details. But not everything. He seemed to have no clue about what happened and…I didn’t want to get ahead of your assessments, so I presumed…”

Scorpius was looking at them back and forth before Healer Olly finally settled his gaze on him.

“Scorpius,” Healer Olly began, her voice laced with gentleness and pity like she was about to deliver bad news. Scorpius began to think that it wouldn't be any good. “The attacker...she fired a Cruciatus at you. Repeatedly.” 

Silence. The silence was too deafening he could hear the pin drop, yet for Scorpius it was nothing. He began to absorb the Healer Olly’s words. He was tortured. _Tortured._ Using the Cruciatus curse. At first, denial crept through his mind. No, it was impossible. An average Hogwarts student wouldn’t be able to fire a full-fledged Cruciatus curse. And even if she did, it wouldn’t be strong enough for him to end up unconscious at St. Mungo’s. Unless….

“We cannot reveal the full identity of the attacker,” Healer Olly continued, reading his mind. “I believe you have the right to know, but the Ministry won’t let us. We don’t know what’s going to be their next move, but they need to launch an initial investigation before releasing information to confirm any doubts and suspicions about her. Otherwise, the news will just cause unnecessary panic and riot.” 

So this was a big time. Like, the whole wizarding world big time kind of thing. It didn’t make Scorpius any better. If anything, it made him feel worse that he still couldn’t remember anything about his attacker. Scorpius would be interrogated, that’s for sure, but when? How? He couldn’t contribute anything to the Ministry’s investigation if he himself couldn’t remember his own attacker, let alone what led him to St. Mungo’s. 

“Oh no,” Scorpius warned, voicing out his train of thoughts in an instant. “How long was I under the curse? Is that why I can’t remember anything? I’ve lost my mind, haven’t I? I’m going to be on a mental ward of some sort, and I won’t be able to study anymore, and I certainly won’t have any homework and-”

“Scorpius,” Healer Olly tried to cut him off, but Scorpius acted as if he couldn’t hear her. Draco, on the other hand, was suffering too much second-hand embarrassment that he looked like he was urging the ground to swallow him at any second.

“Maybe it would be nice. I’ll have my stuffed toy with me along the way and Dad’s going to bring me a lot of books. Still, there’s nothing worse than not remembering why I’m even here in the first place! Wait, actually...I’m fine! I could still remember our last lesson in third year...about vampires, right? I even asked the Professor once if vampires could eat blood-sucking lollipops-”

“Scorpius!” Healer Olly raised his voice, still maintaining a gentle and controlled voice. She was concealing her own laughter in an attempt to maintain professionalism. “Our initial diagnosis revealed that you were under the Cruciatus for a minute or so. I mean, it must have been so terrible for you to be under such pain; however, the good news is the curse didn’t have a neurological effect in your brain.”

“Oh…” Scorpius trailed off, unable to think of anything at the moment. Still, one question pestered him like a flea. “Then...why couldn’t I remember anything?”

‘ _This couldn’t get worse than the last one, could it?’_ Scorpius thought as another silence filled the room. The laughter dissipated as quickly as it came. Healer Olly and Draco shared a knowing look. He would soon discover how very wrong he was. 

“Scorpius, listen,” Healer Olly heaved a breath, struggling to choose her words carefully. “The attacker’s motives weren't clear to us. Not yet. But she had done something, Scorpius. Something irreversible.”

Scorpius wasn’t a fan of suspense and delays. Accepting and digesting bad news isn't really his forte. His healer could have held a flashing red sign that said _“SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH YOU”_ and it wouldn’t have made a difference. He tried preparing himself for the worse, but what hit him was nothing to be prepared for

“Scorpius…” Healer Olly trailed off. “The attacker Obliviated you. She erased a part of your memories.”

Yep, he was wrong. Very wrong. This was worse, worse than he expected it to be. Receiving the news that he had been tortured was like being hit by a truck, but this felt like he just swallowed a whole avalanche down his throat. That explained it. It’ll be a reasonable move for a villain-like character to erase any evidence of her existence, especially if that someone had a zero ability of trying to keep his mouth shut. 

“At least….” Scorpius mumbled. “At least I still remember my mum. At least she didn’t take away what’s left of her to me.”

An odd sense of ease swept through him at the memory of her. There were good times, where they spent countless hours walking alongside each other at their small garden. Scorpius would talk endlessly about anything or anyone. Astoria would hear whatever he had to say about One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, and maybe use that piece of advice for their future gardening sessions. Her mum was the only one who could see past the facade his father put in front of the public. 

Then there were the bad days. There were times when he wished that none of those had happened. He feared happiness like those had a price. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if he would want to remember any of it. Remember all the good and try to keep the bad at bay. Still, he loved his mum. More than anything. And he was determined to keep all memories of her in his heart, good or bad, because really, could there be anything worse than forgetting someone whom you’ve clung to all your life? 

He could see the pain in Draco’s eyes at the mention of his mother, yet somehow, relief flooded his features. They both shared a knowing look, and, for a millisecond, a sense of understanding swept through them. 

“Scorpius, witnesses say that the charm was somehow...interrupted. Which meant that its effect on your memories wasn't as drastic as the attacker intended it to be. Still, with how the charm was executed, we are still unsure about the gravity of the charm to your memories,” the Healer paused for a little while, giving Scorpius time to absorb all the newfound information. She gave him a light smile, a nod, and a flicker of hope somehow clung to Scorpius.

“We were all waiting for you to wake up. We’re so glad to find that you’re doing well. Most of those who were hit by an Obliviate charm lost their memories completely and strutted permanently in the halls of this hospital. Still, I hope you know that the process doesn’t end here. There’ll be questioning, more check-ups and diagnosis for us to know the extent of the effects of the charm.”

“Healer Olly informed me ahead of time, and she said that it won’t be like an interrogation. You’re not going to sit around in the middle of a room surrounded by a bunch of Aurors and Ministry officials. No, it’ll just be me and Healer Olly so as not to provoke any extreme emotions after what you went through,” Draco paused and scratched the back of his neck, which he always seemed to do whenever he was in deep thinking. “We can schedule it whenever you want, though. I understand how...hard and unsettling this is for you.”

The thing was, Scorpius didn’t want any questioning to happen at all. He knew that it was all for his health and everything, but how could he answer an oral assessment if he couldn’t remember the fact that he couldn’t remember anything at all? He didn’t know what to say or what to do. 

But then… “No, I have to get over this. Even if it takes too long,” he proclaimed determinedly. “I am eager to do it as soon as possible.”

Healer Olly scrunched up his eyebrows. “Are you sure? You don’t have to decide...not as early as now.”

“I’m sure. I have to. I _want_ to,” Scorpius emphasized. 

Healer Olly nodded, a sign of confirmation. “Great, then. The process will run on smoothly,” she then addressed Scorpius, giving him an assuring smile. “If you feel any sign of uncomfortable or triggering emotions, you could always talk to me. Your physical health isn’t the only thing we’re assessing here. We’re talking about your mental and emotional health too. There will be therapy sessions too for us to make sure how you’re doing.”

A hushed conversation lingered between Draco and Healer Olly, and Scorpius was just really relieved that he was out of it already. It had been too much for him that he cannot even call it a day without lasting for minutes. 

As Healer Olly left, another silence ensued in the room. Neither Draco nor Scorpius knew what to do. Talking about the accident was like carrying a heavy load for him, yet he didn't know what else to talk about. His eyes darted to the bouquet of flowers laid out on his side. Slowly, he reached out at its side and made a move to grab the bundle. As someone who had taken an interest in muggle gardening, Scorpius took a sudden fascination with the creative assortment of mums, daisies and sunflowers, momentarily distracting him from his invasive and panic-stricken thoughts. _At least,_ Scorpius thought, _these flowers made this place less duller than ever._ Sure, he could stomach the smell that appeared to stick around hospitals and sick places, but for once he would rather choose the perfume-like aroma of the flowers than the poignant and sickly scent of hospitals. It was as if his mother was never gone in the first place, her memory fashioned into a scent of love, subtleness and hope.

“I bought that from a local flower shop near St. Mungo’s,” Draco mused, breaking the silence. “It would’ve been easy to conjure a flower wreath out of thin air but...I figured this was the best way to keep the memory of your mother alive. I tried taking care of it at Day 2 but,” Draco made an awkward gesture, pointing at the flowers. “Errr...well…I found out that maybe I wasn’t as good as taking care of plants as Astoria did. It took me three whole trips to keep them fresh.”

“I…” Scorpius trailed off, trying to imagine his father hastily cursing himself for another wilted flower. “They’re beautiful.”

He looked back at the small bedside table that was cramped up against the wall and found that the flowers weren’t the only thing his father had left. A small pack of milk-flavored chocolate laid unperturbed on the table. Beneath it was a piece of parchment that looked like it was torn from a book. If he wasn’t paying attention, one would assume that it was just a piece of leftover scrap of the previous patients in the hospital. With the bundle of flowers in his lap, it took a great effort for Scorpius to reach for it. 

“Is this from you too?” Scorpius asked, curious as he had never told anyone about how he fancied milk chocolate. 

“Umm...no,” Draco answered reluctantly, hoping Scorpius would dismiss the topic himself. Instead, his curiosity got the better of him as he briefly scanned the contents of the chocolate bar before proceeding to read the note.

“Who’s this from?” Scorpius blurted out, directly voicing out his thoughts. The handwriting was far from elegant, as if the person was scurrying around in a hurry. There were blotches of spilled ink in the paper. Ink was smeared on a parchment, making it unreadable. “Is this a P? No, that’s an F. This must have been a B, then. And that’s definitely an O. And an N. FBON? No, that’s definitely not it.” 

Scorpius was squinting. Beside him, Draco was back to his confused and hesitant state, as if he was contemplating on revealing something. “That’s not B, it’s R. FRON? FROM? FROM!” Scorpius squealed unexpectedly, taking Draco and the other nearby patients off-guard. “Okay, that was half of it. And this...oh no….this is harder. Is that a triangle? Is this a pseudonym or something?”

Scorpius’s gaze averted to Draco, who kept looking at every corner of the room other than him. “Dad,” Scorpius repeated. “Who’s this from?”

“Um...I-someone,” Draco said, eyeing the parchment. “Well...this someone...he didn’t want me to tell you who he is. For private reasons, I assume. But he left that.”

“But Dad,” Scorpius rebutted, having an argument in hand. “Don’t patients have the right to know who their visitors are?”

“Well, you’re under 18 so, unfortunately, as your parent, I’m authorized to handle these adulting stuff,” Draco chortled as Scorpius let out a playful grunt. He gave Draco a light nudge, to which Draco responded with another one. “But maybe with you I’m not so unfortunate.” 

Without wasting any second, Scorpius ripped the chocolate wrapper open. He was contemplating munching all of it in one piece. He gave Draco a look, smiled, then proceeded to break the chocolate bar in half. It wasn’t a perfect cut to the center, but at least he had done the job. After pocketing the note with him, Scorpius held out the other piece of chocolate to his dad, the brightness of his smile back again. Draco was in no place to let him down, so he gradually accepted it. 

Both of them munched in silence. One was in deep thinking, while another one looked like he was in a dream-like, illusive state. 

“Scorpius,” Draco said, disrupting his son from his seemingly glorious state. “Are you sure, you’re going to be alright?”

“Mmm,” Scorpius responded, his cheeks filled with milk chocolate while crumbs littered his lips. “These are the best. Whoever gave this is an angel.”

“No. I mean,” Draco gestured at Scorpius. “The questioning and everything.”

“Oh,” Scorpius mumbled, the sudden realization dawning in him. “Well, you’ll be there right? You’ll stay with me, won’t you?”

Draco looked at Scorpius fondly, a pure and gentle expression lacing his features. He ruffled Scorpius’s hair, knowing that it was one of his pet peeves. Although Scorpius never wanted his hair slicked to look as intimidating as possible, he at least had a knack for decency and order for himself. Even then, times like those were different. They were genuinely happy, and they weren’t held back by the ghost of the sadness of each memory of Astoria.

“Always.”

\------

A day or two passed by before the questioning. It wasn’t as agonizing as he thought it would be. After all, Scorpius had Draco to entertain him. Still, as he propped himself up for what Healer Olly said was a “smooth, fast process of question and answer,” he couldn’t help but feel downward and utterly terrified to the bone. What if he failed? What if the results came and they were horrible? Despite Draco’s assurance that he had nothing to worry about as it wasn’t a grade-based system, a train of questions flooded Scorpius’s mind. What if his memory alteration was worse than it already is? What if he couldn’t answer anything?

Healer Olly greeted him with a warm smile, then proceeded to brief them of what was going to happen. She reminded him that it’ll be only her and Draco around, so Scorpius had nothing to be anxious about. They’ll start to ask a series of questions about what happened, etc, etc. They’ll show him photographs, then. See if who he can remember and whom he can’t.

“Okay, Scorpius. First question: What did you think happened back at Hogwarts?”

 _Oh crap_ , Scorpius thought. _First question and it’s hard as Merlin’s saggy pants._ Still, he had no choice but to answer honestly. Draco made a move to grab Scorpius’s hand, the gesture offering him a little bit of shelter and consolation.

“I...I really didn’t have any idea of what happened after I woke up. It was all...foggy and everything. But I feel like...I feel like there’s a big, gaping hole in me that I do not understand. Like something’s missing? I don’t know if that even makes sense.” Scorpius yanked his hair, voicing out his thoughts, his feelings, for the first time. “I don’t know, though. Maybe it’s just the shock and everything.”

Healer Olly nodded as she put something down into her clipboard. She offered him a reassuring smile before continuing. 

“What’s the most recent thing you remembered after the attack?”

That was something he could answer. Not accurately, tho. “I was attacked before the terms started. Or at the very beginning of the year, at least. I...I do not remember attending any classes or going to the Great Hall to eat. I remembered going early to the train to avoid any vandalism on my trunk…” Scorpius felt Draco tense up for a bit. “Then….yeah.”

“Do you think there’s a...motive on the attack?”

Scorpius was caught off guard by the question. “Well, it couldn’t simply be bullying. Not to that extent. An average Hogwarts student wouldn’t be able to cast a Cruciatus curse for a minute straight, let alone perform a successful Forgetfulness charm. Maybe it’s because, uhm...maybe it’s because of my name, you know. Because I’m a Malfoy. Maybe some sort of group of Death Eaters decided-”

“No, it’s impossible. That’s not what happened,” Draco cut him off, his gaze intent and stern. “They wouldn’t dare. I was a former death eater myself, so I know it’ll be unreasonable for them to abduct Scorpius without my knowledge. This goes through me first.”

“Mr. Malfoy-”

“Healer Olly, you know what happened,” Draco interrupted as he gave her a knowing look. She took this as a sign to drop the question and proceed to the next.

Healer Olly asked more questions, some were randomly thought of out of thin air, while most were all about what had happened. He was sure he had answered them vaguely to the point where he might be answering _A_ to a _True or False_ question for all its worth. 

They proceeded to picture briefing, which he thought would be easier. Draco bought up a bunch of piled up portraits compiled in scrapbooks and albums. Scorpius inadvertently smiled, having recognized one of those. The three of them used to design countless scrapbooks, sometimes until the early hours of morning. 

“That’s me. That’s me and my mum,” Scorpius pointed as he saw the picture of Draco and Astoria laughing underneath a pile of robes and ties. Scorpius was holding back his stomach in laughter, while Astoria’s gaze was on Scorpius. The bags underneath her eyes weren’t as evident as then. “That’s us packing before my first year. She offered me a bunch of sweets, but I ended up eating them anyway.”

More photographs were shown to him as he recounted each memory with utmost fondness and sincerity. The more pictures he saw, the more he was able to prove himself that the Malfoy family wasn’t all about darkness and hatred and Death Eaters. No matter how he valued Hogwarts, he himself couldn’t deny that the bullying in school was relentless. The rumors that sparked were now a raging inferno that sometimes, he couldn’t help but think that what they were saying was true. 

It was then when all the photographs of him and Astoria grew lesser and lesser that he realized that such happiness was only temporary. Astoria’s appearances grew less by the second, and every time it was arguably noticeable that she was getting frailer and sicker. The innocent, blissful moments were replaced by serious, darker ones, until all that was left were formal, family portraits in black and white. It was only him and Draco there. Still, that wasn’t what led Scorpius to shed silent tears. It was the caption underneath it. 

_Astoria Greengrass: Gone, but always in our hearts._

“Y-you….you wrote this?” Scorpius inquired as he eyed Draco, whose gaze averted at his lap. He gave a light nod and took Scorpius’s silence as a time to respond. 

“I used to look at these photographs all the time, you know. While you were at school. There were times when I imagined that she’s not dead.. That she’s still there. That she’s just waiting for me in the kitchens, waiting for another recipe to make. When I walk towards the garden I expect her to be sitting at our patio and tending a plant,” Draco said. 

“I just-,” Scorpius sniffed, his voice strained. “I just miss her so much.”

Draco tightened his grip in his hand. “I miss her too. I still do, you know. I still do those things. every time. That’s when I realize that she’s never truly left us alone. That she’s still there in every family picture we have. And she will always be.”

Scorpius always viewed his father as a strong, defensive man. He wasn’t a strict father, but his dad was the type of man who rarely wore his heart in his sleeve. Astoria must have been the only one who was able to help him do it and he cannot imagine what his father must have been through after she’d gone. It would be a lie to say that he hadn’t heard Draco cry. He had seen him sob as silently as possible during Astoria’s funeral. Sometimes he would hear him cry by his own bed, or at the kitchen during the late hours of night. Scorpius would then get up and find him looking at a portrait of Astoria or staring at something that reminded him of her. He would stay for a while, snuggling in his father’s arms. He didn’t know what to say, and really, he thought there wasn’t any. 

He offered his dad a smile hoping it was enough to comfort him. He returned the smile back, and somehow, Scorpius was certain that, no matter how things get bad, they will always have each other.

After Scorpius rubbed the snot off his nose and wiped the tears from his face, he sat up against the wall and rested his head. He determinedly flipped through the pages of the album, expecting more pictures of him and the Malfoy family clan.

What he saw, however, was different from what he expected. 

He was in their small greenhouse that occupied a small part of their garden. Astoria insisted on having one after finding out in one of those muggle gardening books that greenhouses could apparently let her grow plants and herbs all-year round. Their miniature greenhouse stood strong after Astoria had gone, withstanding year-round seasons and foul weather. Throughout the years, dust and water marks accumulated along the glass walls, and every time, Scorpius would come back and perform a simple _Scourgify_. He insisted on Draco watering the plants while he’s at Hogwarts, which his dad reluctantly agreed to. 

The photo depicted the greenhouse very much alive, the flowers and its leaves singing along the humming breeze. He was younger in that photograph, probably the summer before second year. Scorpius looked filthy, with mud and soil scraping his cheeks up to his neck. His hair was a fiery mess while his shirt was doused in water and clay. 

With him was a boy. Probably around his age too. Dirt and grease littered his head, and he looked as murkier as Scorpius was. His jet black hair complimented the intensity of his green eyes. They both didn't seem to mind each other's appearances as the two faced the camera. Laughing hard, the boy rested his arm on Scorpius's shoulder while he saw himself ruffling the boy's hair. After all, if his hair was to be called a filthy mess, the boy's was a raging inferno.

"Do you remember him? Your first friend?" _Your only friend_ , Draco wanted to add, but he forced himself not to.

Scorpius cannot recall the photo being taken. Maybe it was because he was too young at the time, but Scorpius knew himself better. If he were to let any visitor in his house, it wasn't in his nature to let himself forget it.

So he said the first thought that popped into his head. "I...I had a best friend once. His name was Flurry. You know, an imaginary best friend. We played Gobstones and argued about the rules. I always got the upper hand and won, but then the marbles kept spouting putrid fluid all around the room so…"

Draco and Healer Olly stared at him with an unfathomable expression, and Scorpius suddenly knew that he was missing something. It slowly sunk into him--the attacker had done something more than just erasing his memories of her.

"Uh...well," Draco stammered. "He is...was...your best friend. Like...a real one. Not imaginary."

Scorpius stared at the boy, curiosity and longing hanging in the air. He didn't know how relevant this boy was to him that the attacker would want Scorpius to forget. Besides, the picture was taken a long time ago and he's probably anywhere around the world. Still, a train of questions dashed into his mind: Where was this boy? What was he doing in the Manor? How long had they been friends?

With a lot of questions in mind, Scorpius resorted to start from the basics.

"What's his name?"

Draco's forehead was scrunched together, absorbed in worry and deep thinking. His gaze reluctantly fell on Healer Olly's, who gave a light nod. 

“His name’s Albus,” Draco said, his gaze finally landing on Scorpius. “Albus Severus Potter.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back again with another chapter. I forgot to include "Slowest of the slow burn" in the tags, but then again, they're subject to change. 
> 
> Things will go..interesting for the next chapters. After all, we have enough of St. Mungo's already. ;) Thank you for keeping up with me huhu!


	5. Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the famed incident had been drastic, especially now that Albus is back at Hogwarts. His methods in dealing with the newfound gravity of the news were getting unhealthy, and now others are worried sick. Apparently, pushing your emotions from behind might not always be a good idea; and thankfully, there are some people determined to make him realize that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update huhu! I promised myself that this chapter will be extremely short, but apparently it's not. It even superseded my previous ones!

_I got way too much time to be this hurt_

_Somebody help, it's getting worse_

_What do you do with a broken heart?_

_Once the light fades, everything is dark_

-LANY, Malibu Nights

_Fear and trepidation coursed through Albus as he ran._

_He could feel everything at once: the humid wind that swept against his face, his throbbing legs that felt like they were on fire, and his hair turning into a frenzy mess by each second. Every part of his body felt sore, yet the more he ached the more he never wanted to stop._

_To whom was he running from, he had no idea. He couldn’t bother to look back at his perpetrator. Dread swallowed him as he felt himself involuntary slow down. He dared himself to go faster despite treading on fire and ash. Albus didn’t know exactly where his feet were taking him, but all that dawned on him was that he needed to run. Huge, towering walls of ivy and snake-like vines protruded everywhere, but to him they were nothing but darkness looming over him, pouncing on him every second as-_

_“Albus.”_

_He heard it. The voice felt so distant, like a vague, blatant whisper. He knew whom that voice belonged to. It was the voice he had always heard for four years, rambling and talking and waking him up in the morning. His panic stricken thoughts about himself escaped his mind as quickly as it came. Slowly, as if frightened that one wrong step would change everything, Albus turned._

_Scorpius was standing still. He looked expectantly at him, his gaze holding something that was close to helplessness and longing. Albus was catching huge gulps of air, still dazed from all the running. He never left Scorpius’s gaze. He couldn’t._

_He was so far yet so close. Albus could reach him, he knew it. They will get out of that place together, because that was what they always did. Together, or not at all._

_Albus launched himself towards him. Yet, instead of feeling Scorpius’s body collide on his own, Albus felt like he was plodding through thin air. Confusion and hysteria laced Albus's heart. Where Scorpius was standing seconds before was now an empty, desolated spot. It was as if Scorpius’s hadn’t been there at all._

_“Al,” he heard it again, this time with much more urgency than expected. He flicked his head at the direction of the voice, only to find Scorpius standing on a different spot. “Help.”_

_Albus tried coming for him, again and again, only for him to be greeted with intangibility and nothingness._

_“Where are you?” Albus grunted in frustration after multiple attempts in chasing and lunging at nothing._

_“I’m right here,” Scorpius whispered, and Albus could barely hear him as the cool wind slowly swept into a raging storm. His attempts in trying to save his best friend were futile, and every trial felt like another glimpse of hope had gone and flicked away._

_Suddenly, the voice of Craig. Then his mum, followed by his dad’s. Every single one of them called out his name as if their sole life depended on him, and it did. The people whom he had failed, the same people who had haunted his conscience. He couldn’t help but think that after all this time, maybe he wasn’t trying to run away from Delphi--maybe he was fleeing from himself._

_“Mum? Dad? Scorpius?” Albus called back, desperation edging his voice. The wind was acting as a voice that was whispering to him like a deathly siren._

_He turned around to find Scorpius, only to find his best friend to fade away into the dark. The voices were in their heightened state now, growing more sinister and distressed by each second._

_The towering ivies and vines coiled around him, blending along with the shadows that loomed in the sky. An endless vortex of terror and disdain surrounded him like a predator. His family had gone along with it, dissolving into the air like they were never tangible in the first place. The echo of their voices grew louder, the intensity of their screams raged in his ears. It was a futile call for help. A feeble calling._

_Suddenly, a girl with the hair of blue and silver._

_A flash of green light._

\-----

Albus jolted out of his sleep, the flash of green still flaring around his vision. He was panting heavily, trying to keep up with his racing heart. His head was throbbing despite the amount of sleep he had gotten for the night. Panic and adrenaline instinctively flooded his insides, succumbing down his train of thoughts. 

The line between sleep and awake was still a blur to him. The cozy hue of emerald that he once considered home now reminded him of the curse that killed his own classmate. His feeble attempts in catching his own breath bought very little success as he realized the amount of sweat that covered him despite the current season.

 _‘It’s not real,’_ Albus thought, _‘It’s just a nightmare. None if it is real.’_

Albus forced his eyes shut, afraid he’d be forced back into the vortex if he were to open them. He willed himself not to cry, that his tears will be of no use at that moment. He promised himself that he was done with tearing himself out after the past two weeks, where his sullen cheeks matched the puffiness and redness of his eyes.

He insisted it upon himself to get back to Hogwarts despite Harry and Ginny’s reluctance. After all, Albus needed something, _anything,_ to serve as a distraction. At least it was better for him to go back to normal than sulk around the house with people trying to make him feel better. If anything, he would have felt guiltier receiving comfort from those whom he had caused trouble in the first place. 

Yet, there was no denying that he had looked forward to seeing Scorpius again every day. Maybe he’d wake up and find him stirring at his bed, with his sheets ragged and all over the place. There was never a time of the day when he would strain his head among the crowd of students entering the hall in hopes of seeing Scorpius; and every time, that tiny bit of hope inside of him would break into pieces.

It had been an endless cycle of denial and acceptance for him since the time he had received a letter. He knew Draco had informed his parents about it, and they in return gave their best shot in wording the news out as much as possible. He knew what the letter was trying to convey and he should have expected it. Albus had tried to prepare himself as much as possible, actively serving McGonagall’s detention at his will. Still, receiving the news sent a wave of lightning and thunder unto him. His parents never informed him of the time he would be back, nor did he receive any information from Draco.

If there was one thing life had taught him, it was never to sulk on things that happened to the past. He was an expert at doing the same darn thing before, and look where that bought him: awake during the late hours of sunrise, all alone and probably late for class. He wasn’t going to cry. There was no use to sobbing at something as hopeless as possible.

Albus clumsily dressed himself up, changing from his dull but homely pajamas to his Slytherin dress robes. He never bothered passing by the bathroom and taking a glimpse of himself in the mirror, constantly avoiding himself as if his reflection would petrify him. He figured he’d probably look the same thing as he did the day before, as well as the day before that, and so on and so forth. Although on the contrary, Albus’s disheveled state would have gotten much worse over the course of two weeks. 

Changing into his Slytherin robes was more infuriating than he expected, especially when running late to class. He only had a few moments left before the signaling of the start of classes, yet there he was, struggling to put on a pair of shoes. He rarely had time trying to get his socks to fit into his feet, much less likely check if he was wearing the correct pair. Creases littered his robes as if they hadn’t been ironed for months, and Albus had no idea on how many times he had reused that specific uniform; nevertheless, he had no time making himself picture-perfect or even using magic to smoothen the creases. After all, he would probably end up blowing himself out.

He was sure his tie was disheveled, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. There wouldn’t be anyone to fix it anyway...not anymore. He unknowingly grabbed his shoulder bag and lazily slung across his shoulder. Albus didn’t bother to check if he had bought the dragon-hide gloves they were assigned to bring, much less scan if he had bought the correct copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi for Herbology. He descended from the stairs down to the greenhouses, absentmindedly passing by a few students who were in a hurry.

Albus was still a few meters away from the greenhouses when the bell had finally rang signaling the start of class. He stopped and leant over a wall to catch his breath, his fist balling in exasperation and annoyance. Walking in late on a Monday morning was not a good idea, especially when the professors were bound to start a new lesson. _Especially_ time when some professors felt productive and stern enough to tally late people, only for them to drift off into inconsistency a few days later. 

The best thing he could do was enter the greenhouse before he let himself get lost. He wanted to get back to his room so badly and curl up on himself. Yet, as usual, his determination supersedes his rationality. He was determined on finding a distraction, anything to pull him out of his thoughts.

The thing was, Albus must have been preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed himself barging into the greenhouse, looking as disheveled and unkempt as possible. His tie looked like he just got strangled by a rope. Multiple heads averted on him as if he was caught in an act. For Merlin’s sake, he was late, and it wasn’t like being late was a crime.

Albus opened his mouth to reason out something, _anything_ , to save him from any first-hand embarrassment. Neville seemed surprised too, his wide-eyed expression conveying a sense of panic and alarm. If Albus looked closer, he could see the Professor instinctively reached for his wand. Neville had always been a bit panicky-like since his first year at Hogwarts, and probably since he had started teaching at Hogwarts. At first he figured that it was odd for a Herbology teacher (and also his uncle) to expect someone to attack them in the middle of a class. A loud, alarming noise would result in a flinch or a flicker of the wand. Then again, Neville’s childhood was anything but ordinary. 

And Albus knew that his week would start off as a not-so-ordinary one if Neville was about to reprimand him.

His gaze went straight to Neville as he prepared himself for something as feeble as a one minute lecture. He tightly clutched the strap of his shoulder bag, holding on to it like it was something that would save him from getting officially swallowed by the ground. As his gaze flickered from Neville to hi shoes, the expression on his uncle’s face was unfathomable--like he was close to reading ciphers. To his surprise, instead of getting bombarded with another sermon about the importance of attendance and serving detention, his professor flicked his hand to his right, a subtle gesture that signaled Albus to grab a seat at the back. 

The professor then droned on about how they were a year away from taking their OWLS, making everyone look up from the Bubotuber plant that seemed to be squirming away from them.

“Now, back to our discussion. In front of you is a Bubotuber, a magical plant that noticeably resembles a large, thick, black slug; however, this isn’t their only distinct characteristic from other plants. I had mentioned from our previous discussion that Bubotubers produce the so-called Bubotuber pus, a yellowish green substance that oddly smells like gasoline; and today, that’s what we’ll be extracting from these plants-”

As Neville called on active students and discussed the proper handling of Bubotuber pus, Murmurs from students erupted from there and then, each of them engulfed in their own kind of conversation. Although, deep inside of him, Albus had a feeling that Neville had subtly repeated his lecture for his own sake. That doesn’t add the fact that he could feel Neville’s peering at him from time to time, still wearing the same expression. With his mind drifting somewhere else, he was only taken off guard by the students clambering for their dragon-hide gloves and the intense squirming of the plant.

\----

“Albus, wait.”

Albus stopped in his tracks, Neville’s voice ringing in his ears. He didn’t want to look back, knowing that he’d probably look like a mess. First period had gone and yet he looked like he had been wrestling an Acromantula. Well, almost. After an hour of squeezing raw Bubotuber pus from its shiny protrusions, he was lucky to have gathered half a pot of the substance without getting himself smothered by painful boils from everywhere. 

But as of now, Albus would have rather landed himself in the hospital wing than stay for a little chit-chat with his Herbology professor, who happened to be his uncle at the same time. Although Albus had always thought of Neville as an unsung hero of the battle of Hogwarts (especially after hearing Scorpius’s version of the dark timeline), he knew that he always had long-distance conversations with his mum and dad. Conversations meant connections, which meant that when issues about the Potter kids aren't serious enough for Professor McGonagall’s handling, the news goes straight from Neville.

“I just…” Neville stammered, considering and re-considering the next thing to say. “I better inform you about the homework I’ve assigned for the past week. Have you heard about it?”

Albus would have, if Scorpius was there. “No, Professor.”

“It’s simple. The past few weeks, while...err...while you were gone, had been mostly about concepts and textbook based. A few revisions and readings can help you catch up with them in no time. Anyway, the essay revolves around the advantages and disadvantages of handling Bubotubers,” Neville explained, to which Albus simply nodded in response.

“When do you need it, Professor?” Albus inquired, finally looking up on Neville.

“It’s due next week, but for you I could make an exception. You had been gone long enough, and I think it would be fair if I give you more time to-”

“I can give it during our next meeting,” Albus interrupted, hoping that he wasn’t too harsh. “On Monday.”

Neville’s gaze turned softer than it was a while ago and instantly, Albus recognized his expression. “It’s okay, Albus. I know how...hard it must have been, and I hope you know that you deserve to take a break anytime-- from studies, it’s entirely up to you.”

He knew that his uncle’s attempt in showing concern was genuine, and certainly not because his parents tried to owl his professor about him (which was what they likely did); but this wasn't what Albus wanted. He didn’t want a reminder of what happened trailing off him like a snake. He didn’t need to recover when he wasn’t the one that needed recovering in the first place. His coping methods might have been disagreeable and unadvisable, but to him it was his only way of surviving. 

And survive, he would. “I’m fine, professor. There’s...there’s no need to worry,” Albus assured--to Neville and to himself.

Long silence ensued, and Albus contemplated whether to stay or turn his back on him. As early as now, he wanted to avoid where the conversation was going, but at the same time, Neville was one of the least people he wanted to disappoint.

“I haven’t seen you at the Great Hall recently,” Neville remarked, his voice wavering with hesitation. “I just...wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Albus swallowed, briefly nodding at Neville’s comment. He needed a safe answer...one that wouldn’t alarm anyone, including his mum and dad. Especially his mum and dad.

“Yes, uhm…” Albus trailed off, wracking his brain for an excuse. “I have been….busy. Yes, busy catching up with all the lessons I’ve missed,” his gaze drifted off to Neville, who was wearing the same expression as he did before. “You know...homework and detention and stuff,” he lamely finished. Yet, in his defense, his excuse was partly true. There was another reason alright, but he wasn’t about to reveal that.

Another long silence lingered, with his professor unknowingly tapping the table and him staring interestingly at his shoelaces. Finally, Albus took this as a cue to go, giving Neville a brief and short nod before saying something.

“I have to go now,” Albus said. “Thank you, Professor Longbottom.”

Just as he turned on his heel and walked away from the greenhouse, he heard Neville call him for the last time. He peered against the door, once again clutching the strap of his shoulder bag and his messy, ragged gloves that were covered with raw bubotuber pus.

“If you…” Neville stammered, sparing a glance at Albus. “If you feel like you need anything...anyone at all, you could always come here at the greenhouse, okay?” 

That hit home to him. Albus knew that Neville meant something more than Herbology and homework. It was a temporary offer of solace and seclusion, and as much as Albus wanted to give in, he couldn’t; although he wished he had served detention helping Neville pot the plants instead of polishing century-old statues and trophies. Scorpius would have gotten thrilled by serving detention for the first time then. He could imagine him raging on and on about the diverse properties of plants such as Shrivelfigs and Mandrakes.

But Scorpius wasn’t there, and he wasn’t about to have a break down in front of one of his most closest and respected professors.

“Okay,” Albus said, barely a whisper. He gave Neville a sympathetic smile, and vague assurance that he was okay. For a moment, he let himself believe that he was okay.

As Albus headed out for the door, Neville’s words rang out to him, repeating itself over and over again. He couldn’t help but jump into conclusions that his mum and dad had owled about him, and now Neville was trying to bore into him whenever he could. Albus knew that this was him attempting to create another barrier, secluding himself from the world along with his parents. Yes, he had told himself that he’d try to repair his strained relationship with his dad, but they didn’t need to know everything that was happening at Hogwarts. What happened was too much for him and for both of them, and no one else had to know and get dragged along his mess.

At least, that’s what he thought.

“Albus!”

Oh, crap.

He urged himself to walk faster, but he felt like he was treading through jelly from all the hour-long standing and forcing all his strength squeezing very squeamish plants. The voice was all too familiar, and he knew that his efforts of getting away from it were all too futile the moment he had her call his name.

“What?” Albus swiftly turned around in irritation, finally giving in to the pestering voice that stalked him as he reached the staircases. After nearly losing momentum, the figure finally skidded to a stop.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Rose, you are talking to me now.”

“You know that’s not it,” Rose snapped, mildly annoyed that she had to jog and survive through multiple moving staircases for her cousin to even spare a glance at her.

Albus sighed in frustration, clearly not in the mood with another argument with Rose. “What do you want?”

On an instant, Rose seemed to relax, her usually scrunched brows seemingly gone. The intensity of her gaze was still ever-present in her, as if it was ready to shoot lasers at any moment.

“I’m checking if you’re okay,” she said, with a tone that Albus couldn’t put a finger to. 

“Why?”

“Because…” Rose gestured at Albus, who found himself staring at his own ragged robes. His tie was more of a mess than before, but his further attempts at fixing it only led him to create a mess. Albus couldn’t imagine what his hair must have looked like, but judging by Rose’s expression, he knew that it didn’t look any better.

“I’ve always looked like this, and you never had a problem with it.” Albus said, accepting defeat in a battle when it hadn’t even begun. Still, he wasn’t about to lay down his guard in front of his cousin.

“I’m sure I know that you know that that’s not the case,” Rose rebuked. Although her voice held such force and sternness in it, the tone she held earlier was still there, firm and unwavering. 

“They owled you again, didn’t they?” Albus confirmed. “Because if this is Aunt Hermione trying to-”

“It’s not,” Rose interrupted, her gaze fixated on Albus. “I’ve got a fine grasp about what happened. Dad had never been discreet in writing letters but...that’s not it. It wasn’t like what happened on the train.”

“What’s this about then?” Albus insisted in an attempt to halt the conversation as soon as possible. Rose stared at him, but Albus knew that there was a lot more going on in her head than what she intended to let him see. She was immersed in deep thinking, and all Albus wanted was to get over it.

“You’re not doing well, are you?” 

The question caught him off guard, and for once, he didn’t know what to say around her. He didn’t know what was there to say, let alone what to do. So, being the Albus that he was…

“What makes you say that?” Albus questioned, because if he cannot avoid the conversation, he might as well prolong it to the point where they were bickering. His conversation with Neville was enough for him to call it a day; he wasn’t ready with another one of them.

“You’re late,” Rose explained, her voice toned down than before, as if she came prepared to answer his question. ”You’re never late. And since you came back you have always been so distant. I mean you always were, mind you, and it’s not like you were going to talk to any of us anyway. But it’s not just me who notices that you’re rarely at the Great Hall, and we’ve been worried sick. I don’t have any idea of where you are, and I had to do a lot of waiting and running around just to get a glimpse of you.”

Rose probably expected a different reaction, with Albus trying to deny everything she had said or lodge another bicker that would end up with the two of them diving into another deeper argument. Yet Albus just kept staring at her. Part of what Rose said rendered him speechless, but it was also partly because he was too tired to get a say of himself. 

“The point is,” Rose added, looking around to check if there were no students or professors looming around the staircases. “You’re not like who you were before.”

“I had Scorpius before.”

Rose flinched at hearing Scorpius’s name. Albus had a feeling that it was another topic his cousin dodged carefully, afraid that she’d set a time bomb off him. What she didn’t know was that he had long gone. He had already shed the tears that were left of him, said what needed to be said. 

But what happens after the disaster strikes? An eerie silence, an odd feeling of numbness that made him wonder if it was alright to feel nothing at all.

The silence was deafening enough, and it was Albus’s cue for him to turn back and go on his way.

“Wait,” Rose’s pleading voice rang through the hall, and it was Albus’s time to freeze. He stopped in his tracks, but he didn’t dare turn around to face his cousin.

“Maybe he’s not here,” Rose said, choosing her words carefully. “But I am. We are, and I think that while Scorpius isn’t here, I’m going to function as your actual conscience and voice of reason.”

Albus’s back was still turned against her, but he rounded his head briefly so that he had a periphery of her. “Will you, now? Because the last time I checked, we were peacefully ignoring each other for the past four years.”

“I _am_ sorry for that, alright? Are you going to continue bringing that up every time we have a conversation?”

Albus was silent for a while, and although it wasn’t evident to her, it was a bit of a surprise for him to hear Rose _apologize_ in the first place. Maybe out of stubbornness, really. It shouldn’t count, but Rose was Rose. It was out of character for her cousin, who inherited the brains of her mother and the stubbornness of her father, to accept defeat. Then again, the time-turner escapade hadn’t only affected the two of them. It sent ripples throughout time and existence, and he briefly wondered if Rose had any idea about the alternate reality where she didn’t exist. 

“I have Scorpius, and once he’s back, everything will go back to the way it was before.”

Albus instantly knew he had made a mistake, saying that out loud. This was the exact reason why he wanted to get out of the argument as fast as he could. He was blowing up his cover; that at least, some part of him, was still in denial. 

“Will it?” Rose asked, breaking the silence between them. “Are you sure he’s going to be the same?”

 _I don’t know,_ Albus thought. _Yes. No. Maybe._

He knew he couldn’t voice his thoughts out loud, so instead… “It won’t matter. And even if it’s not, I’ll find a way out of my own. I always did.”

 _Maybe not this time,_ the tiny voice in his head said. Albus tried to push it down even though, deep inside, he knew that it was right. Scorpius had always represented the last string of sensibility that held him together in the first place. At first, Albus didn’t know where he’d end up without him. 

“Albus-”

“It’s time for you to go,” Albus blurted, holding back another conversation before it even started. He wasn’t going to have another talk about Scorpius in the middle of Hogwarts staircases, right where Peeves could pop out at any second. “I don’t want to miss class as much as you do.”

Rose had opened her mouth, but she was left hanging when he had gone long before his cousin could say another word.

\------

To say that the day passed by like a breeze was an understatement, Albus thinks. Needless to say, it felt like trudging in the middle of the hailstorm. His expression had remained stoic and impassive, but truthfully, his mind had been drifting elsewhere along the entire duration of his lessons. Hagrid started lecturing about Blast-Ended Skrewts, to which they were supposed to breed all-year round. He wanted to harbor the least bit of enthusiasm he had about having to breed grey, lethal creatures that were supposed to reach ten-feet after successfully feeding them. They weren’t on the actual handling stage yet, but the unusual, bright grin on Hagrid’s face seemed like he was a 5-year old being taken to a new toy shop to buy his first toy. A brief smile would have been enough to banish the suspicious looks of the teachers and his classmates, but he avoided maintaining the slightest eye contact every time their gazes lingered near him.

By the time Divination came, he was slumped around a small miniature table, clutching his own teacup in his hands. He had been staring long enough at the tea leaves that enveloped the bottom of the cup, but there was nothing about its sogginess and mushiness that gave him a hint about his future. Aunt Hermione had warned almost all of them beforehand about taking Divination as an elective in third year; she said Arithmancy was much better and more practical. Only Rose and Scorpius heeded her advice, and because of that, it was the only class he didn’t have with Scorpius. His father also had doubts about Professor Trelawney, giving Albus a subtle warning not to take her predictions too seriously. 

It was currently getting late, and dinner at the Great Hall had probably ended. He was tired enough to even grab something from the table or make an appearance, but Albus didn’t want to head straight to the dorms just yet. He was heading nowhere, he knew that. 

“Hey Potter,” a voice ringed out along the hallway, slowing down his pace but not stopping altogether. He was certain that he was alone; then again, students had always littered the halls after dinner. He kept his gaze straight ahead, refusing to keep his head down or avert his gaze elsewhere. A tall figure blocked his way, but Albus was not dense enough to stop until he was only a few meters away from it.

“Gone for a long time, aren’t we?” The boy in front of him mocked, crouching down on him so he could meet Albus’s eyes. “Haven’t seen you in a week now. Still coping with Craig’s absence in this castle, aren’t you?”

The mention of Craig sent Albus frozen. “I’m doing fine, then. Thank you very much. Now excuse me, I am not in the mood for your constant reminder of what the whole school thinks of me,” Albus said flatly, his tone setting Yann off.

“Easy there,” Yann said, a light chuckle escaping his lips. “I came by to say hello.”

“I doubt it.”

“Besides, in case you haven’t noticed, the whole school has been talking about you. They say you’ve been into some heroic escapade, while others suspected that some wanted figure is at large. I don’t think you’re enjoying the fame, though, otherwise you’d be strutting along the halls like a hopeful deer.”

“Just get on with what you have to say, Fredericks,” Albus’s expression remained stoic, but his glare never left Yann. Truthfully, he had no idea of what Yann was talking about. Unlike before, Albus was sure that there was more to Yann’s intentions than calling him the “Slytherin Squib” whenever he got a glimpse of him. Today it seemed like Yann was trailing him on purpose, subtly searching for the exact, right moment to talk to him. _But why?_

“The point is…” Yann trailed off, staring at Albus. “There’s more to it than what the rumors portray. Things are starting to blow up around the wizarding world; and we suspect that your little mischief played a role with it. After all, no one in this school seem to think that Craig’s death was just as simple as an accident.”

It was finally sinking into him, what Yann wanted. “You want to know what happened? To Craig?” Albus spluttered, startled by Yann’s straightforwardness.

“We reckon something happened the day you and Scorpius boarded the Express, and even before that. They’ve been searching for the two of you for days, and the Ministry’s frantically running around and filing paperwork,” Yann said. “They’re still silent about it, but I doubt that there is more to that than two students missing the train. And part of it connects to Craig’s death.”

“What, are you saying that I somehow murdered Craig?”

“No, not really. Well, maybe. I don’t know-“

“You, Yann Fredericks, who constantly bullied me into not performing a simple magic spell, is suddenly accusing me of firing a killing curse? How bold of you to assume that,” Albus was furious. The charge, the accusation that Delphi deserved was suddenly added into his shoulders—and being accused as the person you loath the most was worse than Albus could imagine. “N _othing_ happened,” Albus iterated. “And if something did, wouldn’t you want to ask Rose in the first place?”

“That’s the problem,” Yann glowered, his gaze fixated on Albus. “Your feisty little cousin suddenly won’t tell anything past the school. She chose to keep her mouth shut and we’re still a little pissed off because of that. A few winning matches at the next game could fix that but that’s not the point. If we couldn’t get anything from her…” Yann pointed a finger directly into his chest and gave it a nudge, and it took a bit of force for Albus not to stagger. “Then maybe we could get something out from you.”

“What do you need information for?” Albus asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Why was this person, who tormented him for the rest of his life, would suddenly take interest in a matter that doesn’t concern him? “What’s that got to do with you, anyway?”

“That’s not mine to tell.”

“Well, what happened to us is not mine to tell either.” There were times when Albus wondered how Yann couldn’t have been put in Slytherin. He was cunning alright, for him to be able to connect the dots. He sure would have been more deserving than him. “If you can’t get anything from her, you can’t get anything from me.”

Albus tried walking past Yann, only for his large figure to block him again.

“Easy there, little squib,” Yann chuckled, a light smirk forming in his sleep. “If you don’t want us giving you that title, it’s fine. Just answer the question. What happened to that little boy?”

“I did not kill Craig,” Albus mumbled, internally cursing himself for not seeing past Yann’s figure.

“So you’re confirming it. What happened was not just an accident, was it?” Craig sneered. “What about Scorpius? He’s not as dead as Craig, is he?”

The topic being diverted to Scorpius made Albus tense, and if anything, it had made him more infuriated at Yann than before.

“He’s not,” Albus whispered, so low and menacing that only Yann could hear him. “And I’ve told you before and I’m telling you again: I’m not going to tell you anything. Now back off.”

Albus, who now learned his lesson, was quick enough to dodge Yann’s blocks and walked away, giving him a nudge enough to make him stagger for a little bit. He thought Yann was actually going to let go. Albus had been a few steps away from him before he muttered something under his breath; and Albus was not oblivious enough not to hear it.

“Okay then, Squib. We’ll just leave it to Voldemort’s son, won’t we? Maybe he could provide answers to Craig’s death. Or _maybe_ , it was him who-”

That was it—the last straw. It was as if a switch that had long been dormant was flicked inside him. A huge wave of rage and fury flooded past him, overcoming his insides like wildfire. Before he knew it, Albus was acting out of instinct instead of rationality. He turned around so quickly and unexpectedly that even Yann was unable to foresee it; and punched him square in the face.

For a while, he ignored the pain that was swelling in his knuckles as he lavished on the satisfaction of watching Yann, his former bully and harasser, staggering in front of him. It was only then that he had realized that blood was trickling off his nose. He had tried wiping it off immediately, but not before Albus saw a few smears of blood cascading in his hands. If he didn’t know any better, he could hear Yann cursing internally at the sight of his own blood. But if Yann had been caught off guard, Albus was more astounded at himself. He had never punched as hard as he did right now, only earning himself a few playful punches directed at James. He had been used to bottling up his rage inside, and as Scorpius liked to call it, he was “a little ball of madness and fury.”

The moment of surprise and satisfaction had gone as quickly as it came, with Yann’s fist landing quickly with a thud on his face. It was his turn to stumble backwards, but Albus was not about to back down. He quickly recovered from his daze as he pushed himself back together to land another punch at Yann’s cheek. Adrenaline was coursing through him unlike any other, turning on his fight or flight instinct.

This time, though, he was done with running away.

Soon enough, none of them knew who was hitting who. His vision had narrowed as if his pupils were turning into tiny pinpricks, and he was pretty sure he had given Yann a blow in the cheek and a hit at the stomach; more or less, he was also certain that Yann had done the same thing on him.

Just then, someone was pulling them apart; or rather, pulling Yann away from him. It was only when his vision had adjusted that he saw a lanky Gryffindor kid pulling Yann’s arm back, a mixture of fear and uncertainty lacing his face. Albus had noticed him mingle with Polly’s crowd before, although the boy had made himself so small and tiny that he blended in the shadow amongst them. With only the three of them in the hallway, Albus took his time to notice the small frame that enveloped the tiny figure of a boy. His over sized, bright red robes hung around him in a melancholic manner, its bottom edges grazing the floor. He was about as tall as Yann, but he wore himself in uneasiness and uncertainty that it seemed like he had no idea on how to deal with his own figure.

“Let it go, Yann,” he croaked, lightly tugging his friend’s sleeves. “Before a prefect catches us.”

“You go, Leo,” Yann snickered, sparing a glance at the boy. “Unless you have enough nerve to fight him.”

“I’m not fighting one of your cronies,” Albus spattered, glaring at him. He tilted his head slightly, and before he knew it, he was offering another challenge. “Why? Can’t fight me yourself, can you?”

It was too late when it dawned on Albus that he had just insinuated another fight. All of a sudden, Yann grabbed hold of his tie, forcefully tugging him along the way. Their faces were now inches closer to each other; with both of them knowing that there was no backing down. Albus instinctively flinched, bracing himself for another full-blown attack. Expecting a thwack in the face…

“Hey!” An unexpected voice boomed amongst them, a tremendous echo reverberating along the whole stretch of hallways. “Stop that!”

Albus was too startled to even notice who the voice belonged to, his gaze averting from the floor to Yann. Even Yann seemed caught off guard too, his arm suspended in an arc that was heading straight towards his face. Although it was painfully obvious that he was shaking, Yann’s gaze never left Albus just as he never left his. They both held such anger and madness within them that neither of the two refused to lower their guard.

“Yann,” the voice warned, and it was only then that Albus had an odd sense of familiarity as to whom the voice belonged to. “Let. Go.”

A moment of hesitation passed between them as the silence carried dangerous tension and fierceness. However, if Yann had been trembling out of anger, the boy looked downward terrified. He was slightly clinging on Yann’s robes the whole time, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze at all. Albus had noticed a slight, involuntary twitch that laced his features; a hint of alarm and apprehension glinting his eyes.

It didn’t take too long for Yann to let go of him, but not before giving him a sharp jab in the chest along the way. The force made him stagger backwards, and he would have stumbled further if it wasn’t for another pair of hands that kept him from toppling to the ground. Without the intensity of the fight holding him in one piece, he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep a straight face in front of anyone.

“I’m not the one at fault here, James,” Yann said, returning the gaze of the tall figure behind him. “Your brother started it.”

“Really,” James challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Because the last time I saw, you were the one who was about to hit a student from your own year.”

“Believe me, he initiated a fight. The mention of Scorpius’s dear daddy really sets him off, right, Albus?” Yann snickered. If this was Yann’s probe of setting off a time bomb at Albus, then he was doing an exemplary job at it; but if he was trying to trigger his emotions at its peak, Albus had other ways. Just as he was about to launch himself in front of Yann’s smug face, he felt a pair of strong arms take hold of his short stature. Within a second, James was clutching him from the back, his arms wrapped in between Albus’s arms and torso. His brother’s hands rested on his shoulders, but his sole focus was getting Yann the taste of his own medicine.

“Let go of me!” Albus squirmed against James’ hold of him. He could see his arms tense around him, his veins protruding on his knuckles as he tightened his hold of Albus. Nevertheless, Albus was still not a match for James’ strong build.

“Yann, if I hear another threat, another rumor, or even another derogatory insult from you, I will not hesitate to deduct house points from my own house,” James lowered his voice, painting himself a neutral expression in front of Yann. He started letting go of his tight grip on Albus, but not before he grazed his hand on his brother’s elbow, a preventive measure in case Albus launches another attack on Yann.

“Maybe Scorpius -“

“Scorpius did not kill him,” Albus hissed, taking a step forward at Yann. His best friend couldn’t even lay a hand on a butterfly, for Merlin’s sake. James had tried holding him back, but now that he was only using a single hand to restrain Albus, his efforts at trying to keep his brother from getting into another mayhem had been partially futile.

“Who did, then?” Yann asked, raising an eyebrow that was meant for Albus. A bruise was forming around his eye, and there was probably one forming in his too. “If neither of you killed Craig, who did?”

A deadly silence wrapped around the halls, with Albus not knowing not to say and James momentarily not knowing what to do. Yann seemed to have sensed his uneasiness and smirked, instantly making Albus wonder if there was something more than Yann had known about…something that he hadn’t been telling him. Maybe there was something more than he was letting on, or maybe he was just trying to make Albus crack and reach his breaking point, and damn if he was going to let himself give in to that.

“Fifty points from Gryffindor,” James said, finally breaking the dangerous tension between them. “And if you cause any more trouble this instant, I’ll double the loss and make sure that everyone in the Gryffindor house knows that it was from you.”

Although dismayed, Yann reluctantly agreed, leaving himself with no choice but to flee from the scene. He gave James a forceful nudge on the shoulder before purposefully walking away, muttering a series of insults and Potter-related stuff under his breath. The boy trailed nervously behind him, but not before sparing a sideward glance at them before leaving.

With Yann out of sight, Albus heaved a sigh of relief. James must have lowered his guard too, slowly releasing his tense grip on his brother’s elbow. The fear and adrenaline that had him alight with trepidation was fading quicker than he expected, leaving him with a seething pain that was coursing through his insides. The heated fight left him with an overwhelming sense of weakness. His attempt in taking a step forward ended up with him staggering on his side. He caught himself by a wall that was a few feet away from him; if it hadn’t been for that, Albus would have probably landed face-first into the ground.

“Easy there,” James warned as Albus struggled to carry his own weight, leaning behind the wall for support. “You’ve really gotten yourself smashed, haven’t you?”

“Do you mean that literally or…,” Albus winced in pain, unable to finish his question. He tried wiping the remaining blood that trickled from his nose, only to find out that his nose was probably broken in the first place. He figured he might have busted a lip too, the salty, metallic taste of blood overcoming his senses.

“Honestly, the fact that I have to specify-,” James caught up with his words and sighed, his gaze meeting Albus’s. Just then, an odd look swept past James, squinting as he momentarily scanned his figure from head to toe. What was his brother up to? Was he into something? Had he been in a daze all along? Is he-

“Have you been eating?” James blurted, so sudden that he himself was taken by surprise.

“What?”

“I asked what I asked,” James said, eyeing Albus from top to bottom. “You almost look like that scrawny Gryffindor kid from earlier.”

“Who is that bloke?” He asked, partly because he was curious about only noticing the boy as of now. Heck, he had been blending along with Yann’s crowd for almost half his life and he not once did he hear him speak until now; or maybe Albus was just as dense as a wood.

“Nuh-uh,” James warned, “I’m not falling for that. Don’t even try and change the topic. This is about you, not him.”

Albus shifted uncomfortably, staring at his knuckles that were almost turning red and swollen by the second. Tiny streaks of blood smeared the back of his hand—whether it belonged to him or Yann’s, he wasn’t so sure. A bruise would certainly form around them within a day or two, and he could feel a light throb swelling beneath his chest.

Then there was James, who was scrutinizing him as he patiently waited for what he had to say. At first he had decided to dismiss both. Maybe soon enough James would give up and let go of the conversation, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Apparently, that wasn’t going to be the case.

“You’re still not answering my question,” James said, sounding less demanding this time. Albus fought the urge to snap, finding the concerned gaze of his brother too much. A part of him felt relieved that James had a little bit of conscience left to worry about him; but on the other hand, he figured that the “momentary show of concern” would be over soon. Whatever Albus tells him, James couldn’t possibly do anything about it.

“I am,” Albus replied, almost coming out as a snap. He didn’t want to explode in front of James, seeing as his older brother had saved him from another potential mayhem. “Just because you haven’t seen me in the Great Hall doesn’t mean I starve myself to death.”

“That’s not it! I…” James trailed off, his hand unconsciously flying over the back of his head as he started fiddling with the short strands of his hair. It was something his older brother unknowingly did when he was in deep trouble, or times when he couldn’t say what he had to say. Not that it always happened; in fact Albus caught on his unusual habit very rarely at the Potter household. James flaunted his mask of confidence to the point where he always makes himself heard; although it wasn’t something that happened all the time. Still, it wasn’t something that Albus was meant to be concerned about—until now.

“What was the last thing you ate?” Okay, James was really weirding him out. Was this some sort of interrogation? Did James want something from him? It was almost surreal that Albus wanted to laugh; however, the serious expression on his brother’s face told him not to even dare.

“Err…well, I don’t know. I grabbed toast along the way during breakfast?”

“Bloody hell, Al.” His brother was looking at him with an unfathomable expression, like he had caught him in the middle of an act he didn’t even remember doing. 

“What’s this even about, James?”

“What’s this about?” James repeated, giving Albus an incredulous look. “It’s you! This is about you not giving a damn about yourself. This is you missing meals and carelessly launching yourself into a fight. Heck, Al. I don’t think you would have noticed anything if I hadn’t straight-up told you the truth myself. ”

“Others have it worse than me.” _Scorpius definitely had it worse than me, and I had enough being too full of myself._

“That doesn’t excuse what you’ve been doing,” James gestured at him, making Albus look down on his own robes. “Have you tried looking at yourself in front of a mirror?”

He was right, Albus thought. He hadn’t noticed it before, but his robes that he was supposed to outgrow him seemed to have done the opposite. They hang loosely on him than how it did before; and honestly, he was surprised to have survived through the day with only a toast in his stomach.

“Scorpius still has some remaining sweets in his trunk,” Albus mentioned, his gaze drifting from himself back to James. He swallowed, ready to throw in an argument that might make James give up the conversation. “He told me the password of his trunk before, so I was able to nick some of his snacks while he’s…not yet here.”

“Yeah, Albus,” James snickered, “Pumpkin Pasties for lunch and Jelly Slugs for dinner, sure. Are you even listening to yourself?”

“Why do you care, James?” Albus snapped, done with his brother’s pestering. “It’s not like you could tell mom and dad.”

It came out of him as a mumble. He didn’t intend on saying it out loud—it was just a thought that simultaneously popped out into his head. It was reckless of him to blurt it out, just like that, in front of James, because now he was silently staring at him like he was in the middle of a conspiracy. But surely he wouldn’t dare…

“Actually, I could,” James said, his chin leveled up. He drew a huge breath, expecting a reaction from Albus.

But Albus couldn’t say anything. He willed himself to, but the thought of another owl swooping in to Harry’s office was enough to make him freeze in place. His mum and dad would demand a visit at Hogwarts, and everything would go downhill after that. Her mum would constantly check him out, ask him if he was okay, and they’d probably feed more food into his mouth. Maybe they would be sending Harry’s homemade meals every day with a false thought that he wasn’t fond of Hogwarts’ meals. Harry would talk to the Headmistress, and McGonagall would inform every single teacher he had, in return they would be keeping a close eye on him and watching his every move. What happened with Neville would happen a hundred times more, and Albus wasn’t sure if he could stand that.

“You wouldn’t,” Albus whispered, looming closer over James. “You wouldn’t dare.”

James could only stare at him, and Albus hoped that this was a joke, that he was his only way of letting the truth come out. “I could, Albus. Even Rose and Lily had noticed it; and Merlin only knows why I haven’t done something earlier.”

“Oh, so Rose is behind this too?”

“She has the right to, Al. She’s your cousin.”

“She hasn’t acted like one in 4 years!”

“But Rose is trying to make up for it!”

“So what, you’re defending her now?”

“No,” James replied insistently. “But I’m looking out for you, and she’s looking out for you too.”

“And why do you even care?” Albus asked, seemingly repeating the same question that James had blatantly ignored.

“Because I’m your brother! I wouldn’t hesitate to owl mum and dad if you refuse to stop doing this. You rarely make an appearance to every single student in this school and it’s driving us crazy. Your absence in the Great Hall, you blatantly ignoring everyone, refusing to eat, to _even look at me_ , to answer any questions about anything at all. Now you’re shutting down people who are actually there for you, and it’s infuriating, Al. Let me guess, you haven’t been answering most of mum and dad’s letters, are you?”

Albus was silent, he could feel tears prickling in his eyes, could feel the burning sensation on his nose, but he refused to avert his gaze on anyone.

“Do you know why I refuse to meet anyone’s gaze at all?” Albus asked, breaking the tension that was surrounding them. He could feel his voice shake, and it was probably strained even when he was almost talking in a whisper. “Do you know why I choose to stay up late in the middle of the night and wake up seconds before the first bell rings? Do you know why I never eat at the Great Hall, or even start a conversation at the slightest?”

The stillness went on, with James at loss of words. These weren’t the questions his brother couldn’t answer, so he would.

“Everyone in this school has been talking about me, James. Me and Scorpius and Craig. My first day here and I was bombarded with a series of questions and speculations about things that I don’t even know the answer to. Word had somehow gotten out that we jumped off the train, and now there’s already loads of versions of the story. One said that Scorpius was on his way to seize another time-turner to bring his mum back, just as Draco supposedly did with Voldemort. Others said that I was too sucked up in my own, miserable life that jumping off the train might be just the way to...” Albus closed his eyes, catching his breath. _To end it,_ he finished, but Albus couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. Not in front of James, although he had a feeling that he had gotten the context too.

“What’s worse is bearing the accusation of killing someone. That the train incident and Craig’s murder wasn’t a coincidence—not an accident. Other said that Scorpius and I deserved it more than…more than Craig. And what hurts the most is that they’re right. Partly, at least.”

His lips were throbbing, his head was aching, everything hurts but he was done. The words flew out from him longer than he expected. After the relief came the slightest bit of humiliation, making him wonder why he said those things before thinking twice.

“So I’m sorry, James. I’m sorry if you couldn’t see me strolling along the halls without a care for the world. I’m sorry if I had been ignoring every single one of you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t make myself presentable enough for all of you, because I cannot even do that for myself. I’m sorry if I do not want to make this about me, because it isn’t. Not anymore.”

Both of them were silent, with James looking as shocked and horrified as he was. Albus was panting too, breathing heavily at the trail of words that came out into his mouth. His emotions had gotten the best of him to the point where he had momentarily forgotten that he had actually gone after a fight. His legs wanted to give up on him by the second, and for a moment he regretted eating toast for the rest of the day just as James reminded him.

“Al, I’m-,” James tried to say something, but Albus cut him short, fully knowing what he was going to say.

“Don’t. If you’re sorry for me, I am sorry for myself too.” Albus said, and at any different circumstances, he would have laughed at his own self for saying that. He tried getting himself off the wall, swaying for a bit before balancing himself this time. The sudden movement made him feel dizzy, and it wasn’t long before his field of vision turned into a blur. James must have noticed his unsteadiness, stretching out a handed before realizing that his brother would probably insist on being on his own. Albus blinked a few times, and when things seemed to have snapped back into place, he was back to facing the ground.

“I have to go.”

“But Albus you’re-“ 

“I have to go,” Albus said, firmly this time. “Before curfew strikes and another Prefect catches me. And you need to go too, do rounds and everything.”

Albus fled, swooping past James before he could say another word. With his current state, his brother could have easily followed him from behind. He could have said another word to Albus before anything else, abandoning all his prefect duties behind. After all, James was a Prefect himself. It’s not like he couldn’t come up with a perfect excuse as to why he had failed to check the halls in time.

That was why a part of him was grateful towards James for letting him go, allowing Albus to be in his own way. Now that he had poured every word, every thought, every feeling that was holding him back for the past few weeks, an odd sense of aching and hollowness creeped on him. In his vain attempt to empty his emotions, he had actually pushed them back inside, and now it was overpowering him like any other. He didn’t know where to go. His feet were taking him elsewhere, and before he knew it, he was walking past the Hogwarts corridors, past the doors and past the unknown.

That was where he found himself near the shoreline of the Great Lake, his face streaked with sweat and a little bit of blood. He didn’t know exactly what led him there, because if anything it was one of the Black Lake was one of the last places he would go to. Then again, there was no backing down now. It was too late to go back to the castle. The Prefects must have already started with their rounds, and Albus was lucky enough to encounter James. If he went any further then there’s a chance of exposing himself to another Prefect, and that was the last thing he needed right now. 

Knowing there was nothing he could do at the time, Albus leaned against one of the trees that were surrounding him, their silhouettes melting against the long, undisturbed grass. The pale moonlight reflected gracefully on the lake, providing him a little bit of brightness. He slowly slid back to the ground, hugging his knees up to his chest as he felt the ice cold graze of the night wind swooping past him. 

It had been two weeks, Albus thought, as he dug his hand on a small clump of dirt. Two weeks since they jumped off the train and now he tried to change time itself. In less than that they had seen timelines unimaginable to him, faced Delphi, and been at St. Mungo’s. Two weeks, but to him it seemed like it happened hours ago. The last time he had been at the Lake was when Scorpius almost strangled him to death, far too happy on the notion that they had failed. A while ago it seemed like the very palace he was standing on was all too crowded with students, cheering on Cedric during the second Triwizard tournament. But that was two weeks ago, or mainly, 1995. 

Now the shadows stretched up towards the lake, its waves creating steady ripples that seemed to beat in a steady rhythm. It was too serene it was as if nothing’s happened at all. He had acted like there wasn’t anything that happened at all, and looked where it got him. 

A slight wave of relief slowly washed over him, followed by a hint of…embarrassment? Regret? Did he went overboard? Did he say something alarming? He thought about the things he said to James earlier, cringing at the thought of unexpectedly lashing out on him.

_‘Others said that I was too sucked up in my own, miserable life that jumping off the train might be just the way to end it.’_

That had somehow gotten serious. He didn’t expect the conversation to move toward that, but it did. Those words had accidentally slipped out of his tongue, and there was nothing he could do about it now. Besides, what kind of messed-up student would have thought of something like that? Still, he knew that they weren’t being too unreasonable. As much as he doesn’t want to believe it, they had a point to assume something as absurd as jumping off the train. The Slytherin Squib, A Potter Outcast trying to escape from the shadow of his name. The thought of his name marking the headline of the Daily Prophet was enough to make him cringe.

“Albus?”

Footsteps approaching him. The rustling of leaves, and suddenly, he was vaguely aware of someone else’s presence. It wasn’t enough to make him bulge though, so Albus continued on staring at the lake. His mind was drifting somewhere else. That is, until he heard a small voice call on his name once again.

“Al?”

Albus turned around this time, only to find the tiny frame of a girl hiding beneath the trees. She would have blended along the shadows of the trees if it wasn’t for her fiery red hair jutting around her small figure. She slowly emerged from the trees, and suddenly, a stunning, bright blue glow had engulfed both of them, further illuminating their surroundings. It didn’t take long for Albus to adjust his vision at the sudden brightness, and if it wasn't for that, he wouldn't have recognized the girl stepping out in front of him.

“Lils,” Albus croaked, his voice going all too raspy from all the constant talking and arguing and not speaking for too long. He hadn’t even noticed someone walking past him, and now there he was. 

Light, blue sparks danced in front of her eyes, and it wasn’t until he had realized that the girl was carrying a tiny jar that held bright Bluebell Flames. Scorpius had done it all the time when conducting late night studying, and he insisted on it despite Albus pointing out that he already had a lamp. Still, the flames never failed to mesmerize Albus. 

Not saying a word, Lily slowly crept up to him, carrying stacks of books that must have been along with her since their last period. She looked weirdly disheveled, like she had been rolling off a steep hill for an hour. Still, Albus was as much as a mess as her, so he figured that he couldn’t complain much about her appearance. 

After a while, he continued staring at a distance, and that was when Lily slowly sat next to him, leaning against the tree that was enough to suit both of them. She rested her head against his shoulder, nuzzling comfortably in his neck. She was slowly absorbing the view too, her small figure weighing in on him.

That was when he let himself cry, bringing back the emotions that he had purposefully tried to bury inside for the past week. It was all too much for him--what happened with Neville, then Rose, then Yann. Not to mention his heated argument with James, who was probably owling mum and dad at this point. He knew that the confrontation with James wasn’t just a coincidence; otherwise his brother wouldn’t have guessed his absence in his parent’s letters. Albus hasn’t been responding to his parents' letters, and if he did, it only came out in vague, short sentences as if he was reporting the weather of the day. He would occasionally say that he was doing fine, wracking his brain for any reason as to prove how he was doing well. Apparently it wasn’t enough, so they stuck to their last resort before checking up on McGonagall--James. Honestly, Albus couldn’t blame them. He wouldn’t blame them this time. He promised to repair whatever broken relationship he had with his father, and there was no way he was giving that up.

That wasn’t the only reason why Albus chose to ignore the letters. Truthfully, he had been desperately waiting for them, snatching the letter as soon as he could before it landed on anyone’s hands. Each letter that awaited him hinted something about Scorpius. Unclaimed letters from the Great Hall headed straight to the Owlery, and over the years he had recognized their family owl too well. Although as soon as he was inside the dorms and slowly secured behind his binds, Albus would hold onto the parchment with trembling hands, awaiting any news about his best friend. His parents would subtly hint them to Albus in an attempt not to make him feel bad as much as possible, but he knew that every letter delivered devastating news. There were times when he clung onto a small glimmer of hope that somehow, Scorpius was okay. He was safe, and he was going to go back to Hogwarts any time now. 

He was doing fine, even without him, and he didn’t know if that alone should make him glad.

His cries turned out to be muffled, bringing his arms into his legs as he stuck his head towards his knees. He was holding on to his robes too tightly, afraid that letting go meant taking away whatever piece of sanity that was left of him. It stayed like that for a while, with Albus restrained crying fading away in the woods and Lily’s breath hitching every once and awhile. 

After what seemed like hours, his uncontrollable sobbing finally came to a stop, with the occasional hiccups escaping his throat. He was grateful that her sister was not fully facing him, otherwise she would have commented on how much of a mess he was. 

“Are you okay?” Lily asked in a small voice, giving his brother a sideways look.

Was he? His mind instinctively thought of a straightforward, automatic answer; but Albus doubted it, seeing that it was somehow a lie. He sniffed, hoping to at least regain a little bit of composure. Using his sleeves, he wiped the snot that was already dripping towards his chin, along with the dry stains of tears. 

“I don’t know,” he whispered, strained and unsure. It was a safe answer, because if there was one person aside from Scorpius whom he could be so honest about, it was Lily. Her little sister could be as feisty if she had too, but Lily was undeniably the best listener; or should he say, at least better instead of James.

“I know he’s not here,” Lily said, breaking the silence that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. “I know that you miss him, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself, Albus.” 

“I just…,” Albus trailed off, fiddling with the edges of his sleeves. “I don’t know what to do.”

Lily drew in a huge breath, contemplating what would be her next step. Finally, after looking sure of herself, she dusted off the remaining leaves that were clinging onto her robes, as well as the mud and soil that stood out everywhere. “Well, first you need to wipe the blood and snot off you. Repair broken bones and stuff. You’re going to need a comb too, and possibly a bath.”

“I know that, Lily,” Albus muttered, rolling his eyes playfully. A light smile was tugging in his lips and even he couldn’t help it. 

“You look like a mess,” Lily commented, and Albus instantly had the urge to tell her the same thing. “You wouldn’t agree if I insisted on taking you to Madame Pomfrey, would you?”

“No,” Albus shook his head, already considering what would happen if his parents somehow got word that he was in the hospital wing. “Definitely not.”

Lily sighed, looking helplessly at Albus. “You’ll have to come with me then. You don’t want the whole school to see you like that the next day.”

“I guess so.” Albus stared at her outstretched hand. Her light smile was barely evident under the moonlight, and somehow, it gave him a little bit of reassurance. He accepted the offer, using a bit of her weight to push himself up the ground; however, the everyday chore of standing up was harder now than he expected. He wobbled for a bit, his hand instinctively flying over something, _anything_ for support, which turned out to be Lily’s arm. She had waited patiently for him as he felt bile rise up from his throat, having no idea if it was from the guilt or sudden nausea. 

He didn’t know where she was taking him. Lily was halfway dragging him along, his legs obediently following every twists and turns of the castle. The trek was longer than it should have been, but the warmth bought about by the castle was better than the uncomfortable coldness that was creeping into him.

Then again, Albus’s mind had been drifting in and out. It wasn’t until he heard Lily vaguely muttering something under his breath, followed by an obnoxious whine that he realized where he was.

“Lily,” Albus hissed, almost in a whisper-shout. “Why are we here?”

“Lower your voice,” she shrieked in response, her eyes darting everywhere. “It’s already late, so I figured most Gryffindors are in bed right now.”

“But I can’t be here!”

“Technically, you are here because I know the password.”

“Yeah, but I can’t be in the Gryffindor common room! I’m in Slytherin.”

“Well, you don’t want to go to the Hospital Wing.”

“For Merlin’s sake, Lily can you- Albus?!”

The shrill voice took Lily and Albus by surprise, their heads turning around in a swift motion. Alarm was evident in Lily’s features, while Albus was just as panic-stricken at the thought of someone recognizing him.

“Rose,” Lily said, heaving a sigh of relief. “Keep it down, will you?”

Thoroughly ignoring Lily’s side remarks, Rose scanned Albus vehemently, quickly taking on whatever injuries he had. “Albus, what happened to you?”

“That doesn’t matter, we’ll get to that later. But we’re going to need your help with this one.”

“Hold on, I never said-“

“And you came to me. Besides, what do you need help for anyway?”

Rose and Albus simultaneously blurted the words out, his stubbornness fading away from thin air. Lily raised an eyebrow, staring at her as if she expected Rose to snap into action. After a while, she seemed to have realize what Lily had been implying—her expression morphing in a shock.

“What the-,” Rose stammered, her gaze switching from Lily to Albus. “You can’t expect me to- What if this is serious? Okay, first of all we could get in serious trouble for this. We would lose too much house points, and not just Gryffindor! You could just go to Madame Pomfrey and-“ 

Lily gave her a pointed look, which, judging by her expression, Rose seemed to understand. Still, she stared hesitantly at Lily, her eyebrows scrunched together in deep thinking. Albus caught on what they had been wordlessly implying for minutes, but decided that the next not-so best thing to do was to keep his mouth shut rather than get sent to the Hospital Wing. With Lily and Rose holding him in captive, he’d never get away easily.

“Fine,” Rose said, finally sitting on one of the bright, comfortable couches of the Gryffindor common room. Albus and Lily followed suit, but Albus was still hestitant on making himself too comfortable on his seat; as if not leaning behind the couch would make his chances of escape faster if he ever gets caught. “But I’ll only use healing spells that I know. And I demand to know what happened after this.”

“Wait,” Albus blurted, just as Rose was about to put her wand directly on his face. “Have you-well, have you, for instance, done one of these before?”

Rose looked like she was cursing herself internally, unknowingly biting her lip before meeting Albus in the eye. “Err…yeah. Probably. At least once, along with some bloody reckless Gryffindors.”

Albus heard the hint of doubt in her choice of words, as if she was trying to reassure herself. Still, he was facing one of the brightest witch in his class, so he figured that this was his best resort.

“Episkey.”

He didn’t know how many times Rose had performed the incantation, but suddenly, his nose felt hot than before, followed by a brief sweeping coldness. He felt the same sensation creeping into his lips, assuming that Rose must have performed the same spell twice.

“Well that worked,” Rose muttered under her breath, heaving a sigh of relief. Lily seemed to have done the same, opting not to voice out her opinions instead.

“Okay, the first two can easily be mended with an Episkey; but we’re going to need more than that for a black eye.”

“James carries this thick potions all the time. He bragged about its ability to heal bruises for an hour, or a day or something,” Lily suggested.

“Why on Earth would James carry something like that?”

“Because James is James. As hard-headed as he is, he had always gotten himself into a fight,” Rose explained, all while muttering as to why he had been chosen as a prefect.

“Anyway,” Lily interjected, disrupting Albus and Rose from their thoughts. “He says he got it from Uncle George. Probably from their joke shop.”

“What?” Rose exclaimed, looking frantically at Lily. “No way! The fact that it came from Uncle George makes it suspicious from the core.”

“He’s your dad’s brother,” Albus pointed out while poking his nose.

“More of a reason why we should doubt it.”

“Hey,” Rose was about to add another argument when Lily shushed her. “It’s worth a try. Besides, we really don’t have any choice here, do we?”

Long silence ensued between them, the three undecided of what to do. Finally…

“Fine,” Rose agreed, although Albus had a feeling that she had been agreeing to this as a way to make up for him all along. “We’ll nick it off James.”

“No,” Lily said as she stood up. “ _I’m_ nicking it off James. If anyone can guess his latest trunk combination, it’s me.”

“You’re going to the boy’s dormitory? The 6th year boy’s dormitory?” Albus asked, staring incredulously at her sister. “Is that even possible?”

“It is. Boys can’t enter the girl’s dormitories here, but not the other way around.”

For a moment, Albus wondered what in Merlin’s beard was Godric Gryffindor thinking to propose such system. Then again, Gryffindors being Gryffindors, Albus was more horrified than surprised.

“When was the last time you’ve actually guessed his combination?” Rose asked Lily.

“It’s either the day he got his broom, the day he pulled the funniest prank that he’s still trying to beat, or the day of his birthday. Sometimes it’d be completely random numbers that he’d forget the minute he set them out.”

 _How is that supposed to make this any easier,_ Albus thought as he and Rose stared exasperatedly at Lily. Lily, realizing how their plan might go downhill at any second, simply shrugged. She muttered a quick goodbye before turning down

“This could actually not work you know,” Albus mumbled, looking down at the floor. “You really don’t have to worry so much. Besides, a black eye is better than nothing.”

“Yeah, Albus. That’s a no. Your efforts in avoiding Madame Pomfrey would be futile if you showed up to school tomorrow with a bruise on the cheek,” Rose explained, her tone soft and a little less harsh than what Albus was used to.

Albus stayed silent, his gaze falling to the warm, carpeted floor of the Gryffindor common room. He tried scraping off the remaining dried blood smeared in his face; although removing them might not be as easy as scraping with fingernails.

“Here,” Rose offered, prepping herself up in front of Albus. “Let me help.”

Rose muttered a simple incantation of what must have been a cleaning spell. His hand went off to his face, only to find the dried, smeared blood gone.

“Thanks,” Albus mumbled, a small smile tugging in his lips.

“It’s no big-wait. Oh no,” Rose said, her eyes widening in panic. As if on cue, Albus began to hear unwanted, muffled shouts, followed by a loud, series of thuds that must have been footsteps descending down the common room. Someone was coming, and Albus had a fleeting feeling that this wasn’t going to get any better.

“Quick,” Rose warned, a look of genuine frantic reflecting in her eyes. “Hide behind the couch.”

Albus didn’t need to be told twice. He crouched behind the sofa, wincing at the sudden pain in his stomach. It wasn’t something he had noticed a while ago; otherwise he would have told Rose or Lily. Then again, maybe the strain of events that led him there was too much that he hadn’t been paying attention to his body. Albus figured that it didn’t matter anyway—the only concern he had was to not get caught in the middle of a fistfight.

“Lily Luna Potter, how dare you-“

“James! I was just trying to-“

“Climbing into the boy’s dormitory-“

“Oh for Merlin’s sake just please-“

“-And walking into me half-naked“

“Wearing pajamas doesn’t exactly mean-“

“I mean I know I’m the hottest person here but-“

“That’s gross-“

“-after you singlehandedly tried to steal-”

“I didn’t steal, I _borrowed_ -“

“Borrowing without permission is called _stealing_ -“

“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON?”

Albus could hear Rose’s voice boom around the common room. He was vaguely surprised at that no one, other than the whole Potter-Weasley family, had emerged from the doors and walked out of the common room. They were just so _darn_ loud, and if it wasn’t him being at the wrong place at the wrong time, the situation would have reminded Albus of home.

The two Potters were silent for a while, mildly intimidated by Rose’s voice. Then, the usual rambling started.

“I was on my daily self-meditation-“

“-you were obviously drifting off. I could still hear the snoring and-”

“Shut up. Anyway, I caught my little sister nicking something from my trunk-“

“You barely did, if it weren’t for your loud, unnecessary big stuff you carry around-“

“-and now she won’t tell me what she _stole_.”

“I was going to give it back!”

“Okay, stop,” Rose warned, her gaze lingering between Albus and Lily. The series of arguments were a blur, but she seemed to have understood what happened.

“James, maybe you should start hearing your sister out-“

“No, not until she gives it back,” James insisted.

“Well, maybe she was going to use it for something useful, anyway.”

“Why, were you drinking Firewhiskey? Pissed off McGonagall? Pulled a prank?” James asked, addressing Lily.

“I didn’t--what?”

“It’s neither of the three then, so give it back,” James said, directly attacking her little sister. It all happened too fast that Rose wasn’t able to interject. The two had a mini-wrestling competition, almost strangling each other to death. James pried Lily’s hands out while she vehemently secured a small bottle in her little figure. Finally, like he always did, James had finally gotten the upper hand and successfully grabbed the bottle from a now grumpy Lily.

It was silent for a while, with a series of grunts and curses occasionally filling the air. Rose was rendered speechless. Lily seemed to have physically recovered; although she was still muttering a series of protests about how James attack was uncalled for. His brother, meanwhile, was staring curiously at the bottle.

“What the hell do you need Bruise Removal Paste for—oh,” James’ gaze averted somewhere else, somewhere Albus couldn’t pinpoint. For a moment, he felt his gaze nearing him. Still, Albus stayed silent and unmoving; his view strained and restricted.

Suddenly, James gave Lily and Rose a smirk as each of them stared at him with an unfathomable expression.

“Lils,” James chuckled, “You should’ve just asked. You should’ve just told me who this was for.”

“You wouldn’t listen!” Lily said exasperatedly.

“No, you did absolutely nothing but run around like a flailing rabbit.”

“James, in your sister’s defense-“

“Rosie!” James exclaimed, smirking playfully at Rose. “You’re in this too? You should’ve told me that you two were up to something.”

“We weren’t up to-“

“We needed it for a…friend! Yes, it was just for a friend, James,” Lily said as Rose gave her an incredulous look.

“Do not even deny it-,” James warned.

“Oh just-“

“Sneaking into the boys dorm-”

“Don’t act like it’s not allowed!” Rose exclaimed

“Breaking into my trunk-“

“Your password is predictable.”

“Stealing what god-knows potion I had in there-”

“I told you it was for someone!”

“And you couldn’t be bothered to tell me who it was for!”

“You really don’t have to know,” Lily exclaimed.

“Yeah, as if I can’t see our brother’s shoes sticking out behind the couch.”

“I know that—wait what?!”

“Oh crap,” Rose said.

With Rose and Lily shouting in unison, it took a moment for Albus to realize what James must have said. Once it had settled unto him, he suddenly felt very, very, very stupid.

Flustered, Albus slowly peeked, using the couch as a support until he was fully standing up. James was trying to hold back laughter, while Lily was giving him a sympathetic look. Rose was biting her bottom lip, trying her best not to cringe; nevertheless, all the attention was on him, and Albus only wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“I hate you,” Albus muttered, feeling a blush rise up to his cheeks. He hoped that somehow, the bruise that was forming in his eye that led to his cheekbone was enough to hide his blush.

“Hello to you too. Again.” James flopped himself in the sofa, carefully swinging a small vial of a thick, yellow potion in hand.

“What the-,” Rose muttered, confused at James’ reaction.

“If you two were getting this for Albus, which I’ll just assume since this whole situation will be too awkward if it didn’t” James said, in a matter-of-fact way. “Then you guys are painfully obvious.”

“Wait,” Lily said, interrupting James. “You don’t seem surprised—how did you _know_?”

“Well after he got beaten up by Yann-“

“ _I_ fought Yann-” 

“Yann attacked you?!”

“It was Yann who did that?!”

Clearly, Lily and Rose had the same reactions, with her cousin saying the latter. Albus had something else in mind, while everyone was just as confused as ever.

“To be fair,” James explained. “He kicked Yann’s ass too.”

“I’m going to kill him,” If Lily stood shocked, Rose was seething. “I refused to tell him anything. He wouldn’t bulge. I told him not to—and now he’s venting it out on Albus. Merlin what have I done. 4 years of friendship my ass. I swear he’d be dead before he sees sunrise.

Just as she was about storm in to the boy’s dormitory, James had already grasped her wrist. “Rose, lighten up. Albus had beaten him up fair and square. Not to mention he started a fight.”

Both Rose and Lily settled on the floor, crossing their legs together as they made themselves comfortable. Albus was awkwardly sitting in the sofa, staying at its edge and making himself as small as possible. James remained sitting beside him, his elbows resting against his knees.

“Why?” Lily asked, her gaze settling on Albus. “I just want to know why.”

Albus shuffled awkwardly, now that the attention was on him once again. Then again, maybe pushing people away was not a good idea. Especially if those people happened to be family.

“He said something about Scorpius so…,” Albus trailed off, looking at the ground in an attempt to avoid everyone’s gaze at all.

Long silence hang amongst the four of them. They looked like they were contemplating on demanding more details, but Albus’s hesitation seemed to ground them from asking further questions.

“I mean, for wizards, you sure could have used your wands.”

Rose’s attempt in breaking the awkwardness seemed to have worked, even earning a light chuckle from Lily and James. Albus felt a smile creeping on him, knowing that it was technically him who initiated a muggle fistfight.

“C’mon, there’s no fun in that. Right, Albus?” James chuckled, lightly nudging Albus in the stomach. He instinctively winced, unable to stop himself from leaning down and clutching his stomach. Drawing in a huge breath, he briefly closed his eyes, vaguely noticing the shine on their faces morphing into concern.

“That wasn’t supposed to hurt,” James mumbled, staring at him.

“Well it did bloody hurt James,” Albus muttered, hoping that he wasn’t too offensive.

“You’re in pain,” Lily said, too soft and shallow. “Because Yann had hit you there, hadn’t he?”

“Not to mention your knuckles,” Rose mentioned. “They’re bruised, but not broken, thankfully.”

Albus swallowed, taking a lot of courage for him to finally nod.

“Can…can we see?” James asked, hesitantly looking at Albus. “Just so we know how much paste we’ll be applying.”

Albus was about to protest at first; but he technically asked for their help. Maybe indirectly, yes, but still. It still surprised him how James refused to deduct points from his House despite his very presence at their common room being illegal. He was doing this—it’s now or never.

Albus straightened up, momentarily fiddling with his shirt. He hesitated for a bit, before he saw James hand reaching up on his shirt. He gave it a light tug, and suddenly, Albus could feel the cool, night air sweep into his bare stomach. He briefly spared a glance at his stomach before realizing what had been causing the pain all along. Purple and red streaks had been swelled around, the bruise getting bigger and worse by the second. Cringing, he immediately pulled down his shirt, hoping that the bruise forming around him was big enough for Lily, Rose and James to recognize it.

James laid out the small vial in front of them, using his right hand to play along with it. “This is the last vial,” James murmured, carefully hesitantly its contents. “I can owl Uncle George for more, but I don’t know how long it’ll take.”

Albus cringe, knowing what James meant. Still, he had been used to saving up vials of Potions for future purposes. He had always carried nicked Calming Draughts around him; but Albus was in no shape to tell that to anyone in the room. He hated those, only taking them when he desperately needed to, like what happened at the Pitch. It is convenient, yes, but not advisable. Especially if taken without any Healer advise.

“It’s not going to be enough,” Rose said, voicing out everyone’s thoughts in the room. After a long time of contemplating, it was Albus who broke the silence.

“Let’s start with the bruise around the eye,” Albus blurted, staring at the vial. “So that by tomorrow it won’t be noticeable.”

“Shouldn’t we start at the stomach first? That looks worse,” James suggested, his wary gaze drifting on Albus.

“No,” Albus shook his head vehemently. “If we ignore this, then it’ll be noticeable to the students, and even more to the teachers. Professor McGonagall or Neville might insist on taking me to Madame Pomfrey, and they’d surely owl mum and dad and well…,” Albus stared helplessly at James, his voice strained and pleading. “I don’t want that to happen.”

Lily nodded at James, and Albus could tell that it took a lot of strength for her to agree. “He’s right. We might as well sent him off to Madame Pomfrey if he’s spotted.”

“I agree,” Rose said. “But I have one condition. You’re going to let me sit with you at the Great Hall. Every. Meal. Time.”

“What?” Now it was Albus time to splutter. “Why? I don’t get it. Aren’t you hanging out with Chapman’s league?”

“After practically disowning me? Yeah, I don’t think so. Besides, when I say that I’ll make it up to you and Scorpius, I stand by it.”

_And Scorpius._

“Doesn’t matter,” Albus mumbled. “I rarely spend time at the Great Hall anyway.”

“Then where the hell do you—you know what, I’m just going to trail you until I find out your sacred, eating spot.”

“But Albus,” James interjected, glancing at him. “You do realize that you’re going to have to eat at the Great Hall, right?”

“Yeah,” Albus mumbled, hesitation lacing his voice. “Just…not when the rumors are still flying around.”

“Okay,” James nodded, offering a genuine smile. James wasn’t expecting him to do something as big and mind-blowing as possible, and a part of Albus was glad for that.

“Oh, and we all know the unspoken rule,” Lily said, a mischievous grin creeping unto him. “Don’t tell anyone. Especially the teachers. Especially mum and dad.”

“Deal.”

\-------

Rose eventually found him spending time at the Black Lake instead of the Great Hall. As much as she complimented Albus with his choice of scenery, he knew that skipping meals to evade rumors was an unhealthy mechanism. After a lot of arguing, teasing and reasoning, Rose had finally convinced Albus to eat meals at the Great Hall, along with the fact the she’ll be sitting with him whether he likes it or not. He pointed out how the all the whispering and muttering behind their backs might grow worse considering that she’s sitting at the very table of Gryffindor’s famed rivals. Rose being Rose, she was able to shrug it off and smirk at other people coming along with them.

Albus would never admit, but her presence actually helped in gradually lessening the rumors. Before, he would only grab a snack from the Great Hall before heading towards the lake; however, Rose’s presence was getting more frequent and occasional. Albus was sure that Rose was getting a bit more frustrated by the hassle of strutting towards the lake. He was left with no choice but to force himself to stay at the Hall every dinner, with Rose pointing out that staying outside Hogwarts when it’s pitch-black might not be a good idea. Still, Albus knew they were right—it was better than eating nothing at all.

He didn’t know how many days had passed since then. Things were a little bit awkward for him and her cousin, especially if both hadn’t been accustomed to spending time with each other for 4 years. Yet, her cousin’s presence wasn’t enough to distract Albus from his thoughts, especially about Scorpius. The letters were now less frequent, and to say that he missed his best friend was an understatement. Still, he would kill for a little bit of distraction.

“So,” Rose said, strutting down the Great Hall before settling her books down with a loud bang with such force that Albus felt the table shake a little. “Are you done with the History of Magic essay? The one Professor Binns asked us to work on?”

“We have an essay?”

“Yeah, an introduction to the Goblin Rebellions.”

This must have been assigned at the very start of the term, which might explain why Albus had absolutely no idea of it. Plus, Professor Binns had the habit of _not_ reminding his students of a homework until the day they were supposed to hand it over.

“When’s the deadline?”

“Next meeting.”

“When’s our next meeting?”

“I don’t know,” Rose said incredulously. “We’re from different houses. Different Houses, different schedules.”

“Great. Can I borrow it? For, umm, future references?” 

“Hmm,” Rose mused, a smug grin plastered on her face. “Nice try. No.”

Albus muttered something to himself before finally returning on his meal. He was hurriedly finishing his toast, savoring the rare, early hours of morning where he actually found the strength to get up.

His little moment, however, was quickly interrupted as students soon flooded the Halls and helped themselves with breakfast. Albus found them particularly unusual, although maybe it was just his mind tricking him into fleeing away from the scene. Apparently, even sitting near the Entrance Hall was not enough to stay invisible from the rest of the students.

No, this was beyond strange. Students were swooping past them not to ignore him. Instead of settling on their seats, most of them were crowding towards a single specific spot. It was as if Harry Potter had gone into the Entrance Hall in a broomstick, and was now eating breakfast with them. What’s more unusual was that students from different houses have cramped themselves in his house, something that was highly unlikely at the moment.

Albus stood up, about to make his way towards the commotion. That is, until a voice tried to stop him.

“Where are you going?” Rose blurted out, his head jutting from the enormous book she had been carrying for ages.

“I want to see what all the fuss is about,” Albus replied, the curiosity getting the best of him.

“Are you sure? I think it’s just a late owl delivery. Probably a new broomstick delivery or something. This year’s match is probably going to be heated, to the point where team captains are extending auditions,” Rose droned, as if Albus couldn’t see past her obvious fascination in Quidditch.

“Wouldn’t hurt to know,” Albus muttered, already walking past other students. Reaching the throngs of students piling around him was easy; getting past them wasn’t. As he tried to make way towards the center of attention, he found himself getting pushed and pulled away by the students who had the same intention as him. Albus couldn’t even get the slightest glimpse of what was happening. Heads were jutting around from everywhere, blocking even the tiniest view he had. Just as he was about to give up….

“What is going on?”

The stern, authoritative voice of Professor McGonagall was enough to make students freeze in place, including him. He glanced upward, only to find the Professor’s gaze scanning the lot of them. For a moment, Albus could see her features soften as her gaze drifted on something…someone he couldn’t see.

“Shouldn’t all Hogwarts students be seating on their respective Houses?” Albus instinctively cowered down, partly afraid that he’d land himself another detention before he even finished serving one. “It’ll be a pity for breakfast to be served cold now, wouldn’t it?”

One word from McGonagall was enough. Most students started to back away as they muttered lame excuses amongst themselves. Albus felt his shoulder sag, disappointed to find his expectations subverted. Why even come all this way? He could’ve finished breakfast by now and saved so much time procrastinating on finishing the week.

Just as he was about to turn around, however, he caught a glimpse of someone he never thought he’d see.

A boy, hunched over in his seat, his fingers tapping anxiously on the table. He refused any eye contact to anyone at all, his gaze settling on a dull, uninteresting piece of bacon that would have turned soggy if he stared at it any longer.

And oh god, even for just a millisecond, Albus would have recognized to whom that blonde, shockingly white hair belonged to.

Albus was frozen in place, shock and disbelief internally clawing through him. He didn’t know what to do, he wasn’t _ready_. He knew that the day would come, but there was nothing that could have prepared him for what he was seeing. Two weeks, it had been two weeks, and what seemed too slow before was all of a sudden moving too fast. His mind couldn’t grasp it. Not yet. His parents mentioned so little in his letters that he didn’t know that it had indirectly implied something.

He allowed himself to get swept away by the throngs of students that tried to walk past him. Some had stayed, however, still curious about what the Professor had to say. She had unknowingly made her way past the Teacher’s table, but not before looking back at the remaining students. Sure enough, McGonagall pointedly eyed most of them, uttering a single sentence that confirmed Albus’s suspicions. 

“Oh, and another thing: I advise you all not to ogle Scorpius Malfoy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I enjoy writing this fanfic a lot lol. Sorry for the errors! I'm relatively new to writing fanfic, so I'm a bit shy to approach beta readers. I don't know haha. Maybe I will soon. Thank you so much! Comments and feedbacks will be very much appreciated. 
> 
> BTW, I'm excited for the next chapter. LOL.
> 
> Tumblr: [rinrin-obliviate](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/rinrin-obliviate)
> 
> That was the first time I did that. I feel like a legit programmer lol :D

**Author's Note:**

> Expect more angsty stuff from Albus and Scorpius :) BTW, I'm not sure when I'm going to post the next chapters, but I'm going to try as hard as possible not to abandon this story. I think I can update more frequently during the summer, after all our online learning requirements. Let's see how this story will go.


End file.
